


The Masks We Wear

by mz_valkyrie



Series: Reap What You Sow [3]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Actual Mpreg This Time, Alpha Slade, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bonding, Courtship, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg, Omega Oliver, Omega Verse, Pheromones, Scenting, Sequel, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-06
Updated: 2018-01-19
Packaged: 2018-03-06 07:00:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 157,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3125309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mz_valkyrie/pseuds/mz_valkyrie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Slade and Oliver reconciled, Alpha and Omega forgiving one another, but all is not well for the Bonded couple.</p><p>Slade’s attempts to court Oliver’s heart was only the beginning. But the pasts they’ve both tried to escape, the people they’ve been, may just be the end of it. The past has a nasty habit of not staying buried.</p><p>Sequel/Part II to Reap What You Sow.</p><p>
  <b> On hiatus. </b>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Normality

**Author's Note:**

> And… we’re back!
> 
> Here’s the sequel/part II of _Reap What You Sow_. If you’re not familiar with the former, this probably won’t make a lot of sense and I’d recommend reading that first.
> 
> For timeline purposes, although some things have changed, this is set after _Three Ghosts_ (2.09) but before the events of _Blast Radius_ (2.10), so the mid-season 2 finale.
> 
> This fic will have the Mpreg, I promise, but that also means Oliver and Slade get to bang again.

Oliver had been waiting for this day for a long time, he’d found. Maybe not for as long as some other things but it had been in the back of his mind ever since he’d last seen Slade. He knew it would have to happen eventually, there was no point in avoiding it really, though only when that fateful day finally came did the realization dawn so strongly on Oliver.

It was Friday evening, which meant the weekend away from running his father’s company, and the Omega had redressed from work clothes for the occasion as such. The black V-Neck and nice dress pants had been easy enough to select out though Oliver had paid attention when reapplying his Beta cologne this afternoon to not so thoroughly douse himself in it like usual.

The foundry beneath Verdant was empty, free from its usual chatter and his two partners’ presences. No major trouble had surfaced on the streets as of late so Oliver had been unceremonious in demanding the place to himself for the evening. The Arrow and the people of Starling City could wait for one night. Thea wasn’t due to be upstairs in the club for another half an hour, and so Oliver was utterly alone.

Everything was shaping up perfectly.

Because today was the day, Oliver Queen had a date. His enigmatic first date with one charming Alpha, Slade Wilson.

It hadn’t even been that long since they’d last talked or even texted and yet the wait felt agonizingly long. Minutes ticking by and Oliver just twiddling his thumbs.

Yeah, that’s right, that’s what he would do.

Fumbling for his phone in his front pocket, Oliver exits out of his several dozen text messages between him and Slade.

There had been more non-verbal communication between them in just the past two weeks than anything else. It wasn’t quite as intimidating as actually having to talk to one another, though the latter was the Omega’s preferred approach when he needed to get the point across to the Alpha about things.

Calling the man, Oliver could feel his insides tense up.

Slade picks up almost immediately after the phone starts dialling and Oliver wastes no time in running his mouth to him.

“Where are you? It’s five-thirty and I’m at Verdant.”

Slade laughs, deep and husky across the line.

“Eager, are we?”

Oliver might have been but it wasn’t like he was going to admit it to the Alpha, twisting one hand in his lap.

“You were supposed to be here by now. My sister will be coming in for work soon. I’ve managed to convince my friends to let me have the place to myself and that they won’t be meeting you today.”

The latter felt good to say, even if it had been a little difficult to arrange. Knowing he’d told Diggle and Felicity _mostly_ the truth about what was going on between him and the Alpha. The mysterious Alpha that had ‘allegedly’ kidnapped him for a whole night, was behind the whole Mirakuru serum situation, and—damn it was just an all-round hard thing to translate to anyone else.

After several long weeks of not knowing how to really explain the situation—not even knowing what was going on between him and Slade himself—he’d actually managed to do it though.

The Alpha makes an indecipherable noise in the background.

“So you told them about _us_?” Slade asks, though it’s more of a strained request for information, “How’d they take it?”

“I told them the other day, though I wasn’t sure how to bring it up to you by text. So they’ve had a bit more time to get used to that fact that I’m seeing an Alpha, but… about as well as expected.”

Oliver almost groans, just remembering the awkward conversation that had ensued as the Omega unveiled pieces of information that he had previously been very withholding about. Usually, unless things related to his past became relevant—like the Mirakuru showing up in Starling City—Oliver would never think to speak about what happened to him during those five years away from hospitable civilization.

“Well, you may as well tell them I’m not going away very easily either. Or better yet, let me do it, whenever I get the liberty of being introduced. Why not today anyway? Don’t trust me to behave around your little crime-fighting team?”

“Just get your ass here, Slade,” Oliver groans, “I don’t want to have to worry about introducing you to anyone else at the moment.”

Oliver gets to his feet, going back to pacing again as he grows slightly unsure of himself. The quicker Slade got here and they could get away from here, the less chance they had of having any unsightly run-ins with anyone Oliver might have to explain Slade’s presence to. Which was still absolutely everyone in Oliver’s life as he was sure Diggle and Felicity, albeit not outright condemning, weren’t very accepting of his and Slade’s strange relationship either.

“Anyone else?” Slade snorts, “Who have I had the liberty—no, the honour—of being introduced to, because it seems like I can’t do anything by way of you without first getting your permission.”

Slade’s tone was more jovial than outright annoyed yet Oliver couldn’t help roll his eyes even if the other couldn’t see him.

“And whose fault is that?”

The Alpha growls back at him, possibly in what’s supposed to be a show of dominance that an Omega would usually yield to, but Oliver doesn’t think so.

“You can’t keep me out of your life, Oliver,” Slade says, once Oliver imagines the Alpha realizes he won’t cower before him.

“Despite how much you totally have a right to… but you passed up that option in favour of keeping me around. So shut up and let me attempt to clean up my mess, kid.”

Oliver doesn’t even bother to get angry about Slade’s usage of his seemingly ‘beloved pet name’ on him.

“Then just hurry up and get here then before you give me any more trouble,” Oliver urges.

Partially because of his aforementioned stated reasons but also because of his inborn desire to just see the man. Which was probably just the Bond talking—strained as it was over his and Slade’s continued distance from one another—as Slade was also an annoying, stupid Alpha that Oliver didn’t want to bother with the rest of the time.

“Alright, alright, don’t get a knot in your panties. Unless you want me to put one there, which can also be arranged—”

“Slade!” Oliver berates, “You better be here like right now.”

Immediately thankful no one else was around to hear his shrill yell of the Alpha’s name, Oliver has to wonder what the _hell_ Slade is thinking. The Alpha knew just how to push his buttons and it made butterflies dance in his stomach thinking that they were supposed to be going out—together—in just a few minutes.

Oliver would jump willingly into a fight with super soldiers in his sleep, for the right cause, and yet the prospect of a date with Slade seemed wholesomely more nerve-wracking than possibly any of Oliver’s Arrow related activities.

“I’ll have you know it’s only five-thirty-two, Oliver,” Slade says matter-of-factly so, “Don’t act like it’s any later. Only two minutes after our scheduled ‘date’ time. Whatever, you can whinge to me about it all in a moment. I’m outside now.”

With that, Slade hangs up and Oliver can hear the noise from outside like an engine dying, without the older man’s voice in his ear. Oliver nearly jumps out of his skin, halting in his brisk pacing.

 _Oh shit_ , he didn’t actually expect Slade to get here so suddenly, despite the fact that he’d obviously been on the phone to the man pushing him to get here.

Turning around on his heel, Oliver attempts to quickly compose himself. Phone back in his pocket; control his facial expressions from going all over the place which were clearly displaying his rapidly changing emotions. Why, why, did he agree to this date? What was he supposed to do around—

“Hey,” comes from behind him, shattering Oliver’s mental train of though.

He hadn’t even heard Slade come in, open the door—

 _—Turn around you idiot_ , Oliver’s higher reasoning scolds him.

Oliver stops thinking, forcing himself to turn around and face Slade. Which in turn causes him to nearly trip over backwards at how close the Alpha was, up in his face.

Oliver could feel himself tilt backwards.

An arm darting out from beside him, Slade grabs Oliver by the forearm before he can fall over his own feet.

Free palm brushing up over the Alpha’s hand steadying him, Oliver allows Slade to stay there, without pushing him away, as Oliver grows steady on his feet again.

“Ummm, hey,” is the only thing Oliver can think to respond with.

Despite Slade still being so close to him, their faces barely inches apart, Oliver was feeling less like he would fall over now and more like he was rooted to the spot. Slade pulling his hand back away from him, when they both seemed certain Oliver wasn’t going to fall over again anytime soon, Oliver allows himself to fully meet Slade’s gaze.

Slade looked… different. He wasn’t wearing his eyepatch for one, is the first thing the Omega notes, blinking back at both the Alpha’s eyes, slightly dumbfounded. There were… different things about him though. Oliver could only ascribe it to Slade looking less harsh around the edges, as right now he wasn’t paying too much attention to the more intrinsic details.

It was comforting to see Slade with… both eyes yet Oliver doesn’t look at the Alpha too much, uneasy.

Alpha running a hand through the back of his hair, Slade takes a step back from him possibly realizing how Oliver utterly didn’t know how to respond to the situation.

“You’re not going to be quiet on me all night, now are you?” Slade asks, humour in his voice but also sounding slightly concerned.

Mentally shaking himself, Oliver forces himself to look at Slade with an expression other than what he imagines to be his current stupid one.

“No, I’m fine,” Oliver responds with, straightening himself out and bringing his arms back down to rest comfortably at his sides.

Damn Slade, just had to sneak up on him and get him all the more flustered than he already was.

Slade smiles, though it was hard to tell if it reached his dark eyes. Seeing Slade without his eyepatch on had quickly stopped being weird for Oliver though.

“I see, you’re wearing less Beta shit than usual,” Slade comments coyly, head tilting to one side.

Remaining where he was in an attempt to look more composed, Oliver couldn’t help wonder when Slade had noticed.

“Yeah well I ran out down here,” Oliver says, willing his voice to sound convincing, “And I was waiting for you to get here so I couldn’t exactly go anywhere.”

Oliver starts moving forward, causing Slade to shift out of his path, as he walked past the man. Not before he gave the man a quick look up and down though. Slade looked somewhat different to him without the vest, katana and guns all strapped to his body that he had worn practically every day on the island.

He looked mildly less predatory dressed down—up really—in a pair of slacks and a maroon dress shirt though Oliver couldn’t help but feel that was Slade’s intention. Oliver didn’t like having his back to the Alpha either, but he also was sure that he’d just told a very unconvincing lie. There was no way Oliver would let himself be caught out without the scent neutralizer, Beta sprays, or god forbid his suppressants.

“Well, thank you for considering me at least,” Slade says, seemingly materializing at his side.

Oliver shakes his head at Slade sincerely meeting his eyes.

“I didn’t,” Oliver affirms.

Not sure what the Alpha was getting at but not really sure of himself all the same.

Slade maintains their distance of being a little closer in Oliver’s space than the Omega would have initially allowed the man to be, even as Oliver’s edging for the door, in an awkward attempt to get them out of Verdant. The Alpha’s attempts to be close to him were weird, and Oliver not sure how to deal with them, when Slade wasn’t there to threaten him with violence or beat his ass into the ground.

Or at least, Oliver didn’t think Slade was.

“Well, what are we still doing here? You’re the one supposed to be taking _me_ out,” Oliver snaps, sensing the Alpha beside him but also not really doing anything.

“We’ve wasted enough time here. As it is, you already took long enough to just get here.”

Slade chuckles, but obviously sees through Oliver’s excuses as an attempt to push them out the door.

“Alright, right this way then.”

Alpha opening the door and waiting for the Omega, Oliver briskly ducks outside and past the man.

The air outside Verdant was fresh, making Oliver immediately doubt his decision to dress according to not only what he felt comfortable in, but also what he thought Slade would like.

Mostly black seemed the best way to go in an attempt to ape old times. In spite of Oliver practically lecturing Slade that they shouldn’t fall back on the way things had turned out between them in shaping their _potential_ future, that didn’t mean he hadn’t not worn a lot of dark colours and camouflage around the older man though.

Maybe he should have brought a jacket as well, Oliver thinks feeling the cool air bite into his bare forearms. But he also had no idea where Slade was taking him either.

Oliver refrains from groaning when it’s over to the Alpha’s stupid, pompous car, parked in the alleyway beside the club. Somehow Oliver had hoped that Slade would take them somewhere just walking distance from here, but that also would mean they ran more risk of being publicly seen together. Something the Omega was not sure he was ready for.

So he’d put up with Slade’s Lamborghini for now.

“I hate your car,” Oliver states, not content to hide it from the man.

Practically dragging himself over to the thing from where the Omega thought they would be walking in the opposite direction, Oliver flops onto the side of the passenger door.

The lights on the car flashed for a moment as the Alpha opened it from the other side.

“Don’t worry,” Slade starts, “you’ve been in it before.”

Slade doesn’t distinctly smirk at Oliver but the Omega can feel the man’s want to in his voice.

Oliver’s clambering for the door handle regardless, keen to be out of the still-Winter-but-heating-up January air. Lian Yu had ruined any chance Oliver had of being someone who ‘liked’ the cold.

“You’re going to want to stand back a bit when you open it,” Slade says, showing Oliver the car door opening upwards rather than outwards.

Oliver shakes his head yet refrains from giving Slade one of his ‘not impressed’ looks. It might have seemed like he was already giving the man a lot of cheek today but the Omega wasn’t sure how he was otherwise supposed to act around Slade.

No dumb Bond was going to dictate or have an impact on his feelings.

Letting himself into Slade’s car, Oliver pulls the door back down on himself quickly. Despite how uncomfortable the lack of room in the vehicle might have been—not all open space like a motorbike—the atmosphere inside it was still warm from the heating being on not so long ago. Oliver refrains from squirming in the leather seats, feeling how low-hanging the roof was above him, putting his seatbelt on.

That was the appeal of sports cars he presumed, their aerodynamic and compact appearance, but Oliver couldn’t help think they got less practical the taller you were. Oliver had a noticeable few inches on Slade.

“I’m sure, I fully consented to being in _this_ before,” Oliver comments.

Watching the Alpha settle himself into the driver’s side where he seemed more at home than Oliver currently was. The car started without a key, engine low and humming.

“What? Would you rather I have carried you?” Slade somewhat mocks.

“I’m not sure I would have liked the struggle as I don’t think you were going to stay unconscious for much longer than you did.”

Oliver remembers, how unceremoniously he lost consciousness in the Glades all those nights ago—not liking the way the Alpha drew attention to it either in such a humoured manner.

“Drive,” Oliver bites out.

xxxxxxxx

After several minutes of driving mostly in silence and some attempts at inane banter between them, Oliver still had no idea as to where Slade was taking him. It was back through the city at least—the opposite direction from the Glades—so that at least gave the Omega some peace of mind that Slade had some taste. He didn’t find himself getting any more comfortable with how disgustingly _rich_ the Alpha’s car was, yet maybe that was just him looking for black marks to hold to Slade’s name after he’d extended his forgiveness to him.

He did however; find himself starting to relax around the older man. After being so uptight, anxious and excited all day for the occasion it only took about five minutes for that nervous energy of his to burn out around Slade.

Oliver knew it was only natural. That although fickle and incomplete, the Bond—his body—would release endorphins to placate him within a short while of being in Slade’s presence. That was the… annoying aspect of being an Omega, even his goddamn dynamic was dictating to him now.

The less they were around each other, the stronger the hormonal and emotional changes would be. It was like the body could recognize when Bond-mates were away from each other for what it deemed ‘too long’, though wasn’t governed by reason or equipped with the knowledge as to think why. That maybe Oliver had other shit to do and there were more intrinsic reasons for him to think to be uncomfortable around Slade other than ‘he just was’.

Maybe he could up his suppressants dosage or change them all together. Neither sounded overly healthy yet maybe that would stop all these bullshit feelings of his. That wouldn’t change the fact that Oliver had been the one to pull Slade into bed though and not the other way around. Nor that Slade’s scent, musky and heavy, at such a close distance without a great buffer between them, sent shivers down Oliver’s spine and—

“—I’m sorry,” Oliver forces himself to say aloud, breaking himself away from his more _personal_ thoughts.

It was already sundown outside. Even with all of Starling City’s lights and grandeur illuminating the scenery, Oliver found it hard to read Slade’s eyes as they blended in with the dark. Maybe he shouldn’t have let the silence stretch on between them for so long…

“Yes…?” Slade practically purred.

Alpha giving him a look out of the corner of his eyes whilst still focusing on the stretch of road ahead of them.

 _Oh great_ , now Slade was expecting more of an answer from him.

Oliver doesn’t hide his squirms and uncomfortableness under Slade’s ice-like gaze in an attempt to look remorseful.

“I’m sorry,” Oliver exhales, apologizing again, “I was… being kind of a dick before. I just… just don’t know how to act around you half the time.”

Oliver couldn’t help feel his explanation for his earlier actions was a bit lacking but at least he tried. _Now was that so hard_? For him to get off his high horse and just apologize?

Keeping his gaze met with Slade’s narrow one, the Omega almost worried that the Alpha wasn’t going to accept his—admittedly crappy—plea.

“Well, that makes the two of us then,” Slade offers, diverting his attention from looking forward for a moment.

“Albeit you are very cute when attempting to be stroppy or sulking on me though.”

Oliver feels himself slightly taken aback by Slade’s words, shaking his head.

_Cute?_

“Stroppy? What does that mean?” Oliver asks, wanting to know the full extent of what the Alpha was implying about him.

It certainly wasn’t a word synonymous with sulking the Omega knew. Yet Oliver did also flunk through most of his English classes.

“Stroppy,” Slade says, waving a hand off the wheel as if trying to grasp how to explain the phrase.

“It’s slang. When you’re all grumpy and PHSing like the way you were before, you’re stroppy.”

“I am not stroppy,” Oliver exclaims, settling back in his seat.

He’d show Slade ‘stroppy’ and ‘sulking’ if the Alpha so willed it. It sounded like another one of those weird… Australian or so terms of Slade’s, as Oliver didn’t think he had ever heard of it, even with all the multilingual knowledge he’d gained over the years.

“I didn’t say you were,” Slade laughs, “Just that when you are, it’s quite fitting of you and adorable at the same time. Brings back old times—”

“—Alright,” Oliver cuts off, seeing how pleased Slade was with himself at striking a nerve.

“You better tell me where you’re taking me, like right now,” Oliver follows up with, though without any real way to threaten on the matter.

He was already in the car and at the mercy of whatever the Alpha intended for them.

“You say that as if you’re being held hostage,” Slade coos, “And again with your stroppiness, have you really missed me that much?”

Oliver ignores the look Slade is giving him in favour of turning to look out the window. He and Slade were still playing the same seemingly ‘game’ with one another but a lack of disclosure would do that to you. It might have been childish, but it was a more comfortable scenario between them than the all too recent fighting and hatred.

“Well, you didn’t exactly leave me with many options, now did you,” Slade says, most of the jovial tone gone from his voice.

“Nothing too public, nothing too formal—I’m not taking you on a ‘date date’—, nothing outdoors, nothing that will keep you out all night otherwise your friends will have my head,” Slade recites as if reading from a book.

“Hmm, so you did remember everything I said?”

Oliver was mildly impressed with Slade’s diligence, considering he’d only rattled off the ‘terms and conditions’ of their date the once over the phone. Which wasn’t controlling of him, just that he and Slade could agree on a want to keep their relationship—or whatever it was—quiet.

For the moment at least, as Slade seemed sure to prove Diggle and Felicity’s disapproving assumptions about him wrong and burst straight into the middle of Oliver’s life at a moment’s notice.

But for now, just a first not-a-date, first reencounter with one another when they were on good terms, was all Oliver had worries about on his immediate mind.

“Yes,” Slade affirms, turning his head to fully face Oliver for a second.

The gesture was… strange as when the older man did it Oliver could pick out the differences in his face. The lack of tension and anger that coloured most of Slade’s appearances with him in the past weeks. Slade kept his mask up well, and the Alpha having seen Oliver at his presumed worst—now and back on the island, when he was at his most vulnerable—might have allowed Slade an easier time dropping his own façade.

“I jumped through all your damn hoops,” Slade apprehends, straightening up.

Oliver had to hope they were getting close to where ever they were going now as they were nearing the main happenings of the city. Even with all the peak hour traffic that was holding them up, the Omega decided not to question the Alpha’s vagueness anymore on where he was dragging him to.

“You shaved,” Oliver says, picking up on it and deciding to mention it now that they were over the silent treatment.

“I did…”

Slade’s voice is low as if expecting a follow-up accusation from Oliver, running a hand over the stubble on his chin.

The beard and most of the hair on Slade’s face had been stripped away.

Oliver had to wonder if the Alpha had done it the night before or started shaving it back once the Omega first caved to them going on a ‘date’. The former seemed outrageous but Oliver did have to remind himself that every other male dynamic grew facial and body hair far quicker and better than the Omegas did.

It was amazing Oliver grew any stubble at all, considering the Omega felt he spent the beginning of his twenties practically baby-faced. If he shaved everything off today, he’d be worried about the slow rate in which his stubble would grow back at.

“For me?” Oliver couldn’t help but poke fun at the Alpha.

Seeing how much Slade liked doing it to him.

Slade growls, deep and instinctual, hands tense around the wheel of the car and Oliver is slightly worried for a moment. The Alpha’s gritted teeth swiftly turned into a somewhat uncharacteristic smirk however.

“Was the lack of so much Beta spray for me?” Slade coyly asks, eyes like the black sky boring into the Omega.

“Yes…” is all Oliver forces out between his teeth.

Not seeing the point in trying to hide it but also not wanting to give Slade the satisfaction that he’d caught him lying about it either.

Oliver couldn’t avoid Slade’s overt gaze.

“I guess we’re even then,” Slade smiles, “Though I do appreciate the gesture. You smell a lot… nicer without all the crappy masking and unnatural chemicals on you. You don’t even have to wear it at all around me… if you don’t want to.”

Frowning at Slade’s ‘suggestion’, Oliver was still somewhat amused to see the Alpha so strongly took notice of the change, but also couldn’t help feel a little bit naked without so much Beta cologne on him. It was like he walked out of the house with his pyjamas still on or something else wrong. Especially when he felt that Slade was drawing attention to it. The Alpha seemed to enjoy it though, which gave Oliver a welcome sense of being appreciated.

“I wasn’t too sure what to do about this though,” Slade says when Oliver remains quiet.

Dragging a hand over the side of his temple, the Alpha highlights the grey growing up into his hair. There certainly wasn’t too much of it, albeit it was a noticeable contrast with the rest of Slade’s dark hair.

“I think it’s fine.”

“Not a word from you,” Slade retorts, seeing the way Oliver was grinning.

“What? I think it looks good on you. Seeing as you’re always calling me ‘kid’, maybe I should start calling you an old man,” Oliver chuckles.

Slade just shakes his head, pulling them off the road and directing them into what looked like an underground parking lot.

Oliver stopped laughing however when he realized Slade was killing the car here. Twisting around in his seat, Oliver couldn’t really tell where they were other than the fact that it was dim. He didn’t exactly want to get out either—not that the Alpha hadn’t locked the doors—turning on Slade.

“Ummm, what the hell is this?” Oliver wastes no time in voicing his disapproval.

The Omega didn’t mean to consider himself upper-class or anything—the island certainly pulverized some humility into him—but he was still expecting a level of class and well… effort from Slade in letting him choose the location for their date. An underground car park, or anywhere in the dark really, just seemed like a makeshift place to have sex—and there was no way this car was going to allow for that kind of movement.

Not that Oliver was going to allow that either but Slade was _not_ setting a good standard at the moment. No matter how well he might have dressed and how nice he might have smelt.

“My place,” Slade grins, opening his door.

Oliver could only groan, hastily following suit after the Alpha.

He should have figured as much.


	2. Revelations I

“I know you have questions,” is the first thing Slade says after guiding Oliver to a room.

The walk up through Slade’s complex was a relatively short one, stairwells and elevators pushing the process along as Slade chaperoned Oliver along and the Omega followed in relative silence. It was clear to both of them the atmosphere had changed, and rapidly, with Slade’s decision to bring the both of them back to ‘his place.’

Throughout the swift journey, Oliver had twisted his head around constantly, trying to take in and examine the new area he was in whilst still getting dragged along by Slade. The last time he was here, Oliver hadn’t really taken a chance to inspect the place. All the deep red walls, the closed doors and lack of open spaces bar bottle-necked corridors, the absence of any personal décor outside of the gold framed paintings, and the gnarled black statues sat upon pedestals.

It was weird… nothing about it really screamed Slade to him at all. Or at least the Slade Oliver thought he knew.

To top off the uneasiness inside Oliver, there were no other scents here either; the corridors Slade had pulled him through smelling predominantly sterile or of musky Alpha—the man’s own scent. This, combined with what Oliver had seen and the silence lingering everywhere, told Oliver he and Slade were very much alone.

Now, Oliver lingers in the doorway to the medium-sized looking apartment Slade appears to have stopped at. Remaining vigilante, arms folded over his chest after Slade has pushed past him into the room. Not quite edging past the threshold of the doorframe but also not tracking back into the hallway they’d came from.

“What gave it away?” Oliver asks unenthusiastic.

Not making an attempt to move, Oliver leans on his shoulder, eyes constantly on Slade in between evaluating the scenery. Even if he might have mildly trusted the Alpha, Oliver still felt the need to keep his guard up in unfamiliar territory. A habitat that had been nailed into him in his years away from Starling City.

“You’ve been quiet since the moment I brought you here,” Slade voices.

Oliver could immediately feel Slade’s eyes on him, like daggers cutting him away from his thoughts and drawing his attention from the dark red walls he’d been focusing on. The Alpha’s gaze meeting Oliver’s over a granite kitchen benchtop, Oliver remains silent but takes a small stride forward past the doorframe .

He was getting itchy with Slade just watching him, the older man’s brows and lips quirked upwards in a way that suggested Oliver couldn’t win.  He was never very good at being silent, only when his survival depended on it, and certainly not when he was around other people. Too used to being the life of the party, even when today it was mostly just him having to falsely socialize and smile intently at other businessmen.

After another moment of pained silence, Oliver weakens, realizing his silent treatment was childish at best, accusatory at worst, and all round backwards progress for them.

“I’m listening,” Oliver says, keeping a sigh from his voice.

Lightly kicking the door closed behind him with a foot, Oliver drops his arms back by his side, mentally dragging himself over to Slade. Slade offers a slight smile, no teeth—so he looked less like a wolf closing in on a sheep, Oliver notices—as the Alpha scrapes knife and fork against one another over a sink.

Oliver stops by the rectangular bench framing the kitchen, not sure if he should sit down on a stool but also wanting to continually inspect the place.  The apartment wasn’t small enough that all of it, apart from a kitchen, dining and living area was readily visible but Oliver also wasn’t convinced Slade had nothing to hide here either. Yet it would also be foolish of him to think Slade would hide his secrets just under their noses.

Maybe he was being hopeful, but Slade openly and without demand bringing Oliver back to his complex like this made the Omega think that this was possibly the time when the Alpha would explain everything and he wouldn’t have to ask. Like _what happened to the Mirakuru he’d presumably been manufacturing, what happened with Cyrus Gold, what had he been doing all these years_?

There were so many questions Oliver wanted to ask the older man, even if that meant having to open himself up to Slade’s own accusations, and the Omega had begun to wonder, shortly after getting here, if this was something other than a ‘date’.

“Oi,” Slade chastises as Oliver remains standing, “sit the fuck down.”

There’s not as much demand in Slade’s tone as Oliver had come to expect from the Alpha but he complies anyway without a fuss.

Sitting down across from Slade, the Alpha drops his cutlery and rolls up the cufflinks on his sleeves. Over the bench, Oliver could see the tabletop was mostly bare, sets of cutlery sparkling clean on the side and the silver sink looking like it had never seen water. Oliver wondered if it always looked this way or if Slade had polished up the place just for him.

“From my experience, when you are quiet, there’s a problem. And if you’re not whining, it’s diabolical,” Slade grins, watching Oliver as the Alpha takes two glasses from an overhead cupboard on the wall.

Oliver shakes his head, not seeing the logic.

“For me to be whining how can I be quiet?”

“You find a way,” Slade muses, gathering utensils and plates in front of them.

Oliver doesn’t pay too much mind as to what Slade’s doing, thoughts running away from him.

“I dunno what it is, if you’re just too polite, too stubborn or even scared to ask me… whatever it is you’re dwelling on.”

Slade drops a skillet on the bench with a loud clang and Oliver wonders if it’s on purpose as he snaps up to attention. The Alpha had accumulated a small multitude of steel and silver supplies now.

“Don’t do that,” Oliver reprimands, Slade jolting him from his thoughts as he tenses up in the shoulders.

“Well, stop being such a tight ass then and answer the question.”

The Omega was sure he wasn’t the only one being a tight ass around here but Slade swiftly turns his back on him flicking a burner on the stove. It gives him a chance to gather his thoughts without feeling overly anxious in Slade’s crosshairs.

He knew he had questions, they both knew that, but Oliver wasn’t quite sure how to ask any of them without feeling like he was slapping Slade’s hospitality in the face. Slade bringing him back here, to the place he’d quite literally initially dragged him to against his free will… It had the unfortunate side effect of causing the same questions and accusations to resurface in his mind he had here last time.

Yet albeit without the same hostility to it.

“Maybe all of the above,” Oliver concedes, agreeing with the Alpha’s prior observations.

“I don’t know how to ask you anything anymore, I think I’m worried you might actually respond. But then how do I trust what’s coming out of your mouth is the truth?”

Sighing, Oliver feels a wave of relief wash over him at being able to speak his mind, though it didn’t stop him from still feeling confused about his emotions.

A while ago he’d given up trying to question… whatever it was he felt for the Alpha but the nature of Slade being here in Starling City, the things he’d done and the things he’d potentially planned to do were worries in him that couldn’t be buried so easily.

It was probably tied into his Arrow nature and protecting the city, he could almost never let things go on that front.

Slade doesn’t even flinch at Oliver’s half-accusation, placing the large pan on the stove. Turning back around to face the Omega, Slade simply smiles but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Oliver leans back on his chair for a moment, concerned at Slade coming so close to him with an unreadable emotion on his face, but then the Alpha just flicks the faucet on the sink on.

“Y’know, I wouldn’t have brought you here if I didn’t think I’d be able to get some sort of reaction out of you,” Slade offers, leaning over.

Cufflinks up around his elbows, Slade douses his hands in hot water before applying soap to them, washing up to around his wrists.

Slumping back forward, Oliver straightens up naturally again; certain Slade wasn’t going to smack him or something.

Back on the island running his mouth had its punishments, like having to catch their dinner or an extra round of training. He doesn’t know why but Oliver was almost sure he’d be more comfortable with that, if Slade was as predictable as he used to be. Not that the Alpha was ever predictable, just that Oliver once had a bit more of a rough idea what to expect from him.

Now Oliver wasn’t sure what he knew about Slade anymore.

“You don’t trust me.”

It’s not a question—Slade drops as he’s drying his hands with a tea towel—but something they both knew for certain.

“Not on everything,” Oliver admits, voice sombre and void of any defiance.

“Well, I intend to prove you wrong.”

Slade’s tone of voice didn’t leave very much room for discussion and Oliver didn’t follow up question the man as to ‘how’. How he intended to garner the rest of Oliver’s trust. Because even the Omega himself wasn’t quite sure as to how that was possible. His trust these days was something that was hard to earn for anyone, not just Slade.

Alpha turning back to the other side of the kitchen where the stove and refrigerator was, Slade hangs the used tea towel over the wall oven and pulls another cloth off a small mound of something on the bench where Oliver can’t see. When Slade moves to the fridge, Oliver’s face drops upon seeing a large slab of meat on a plate.

“Are you… Are you cooking?” Oliver quickly asks.

Maybe he should have clicked to it sooner, all the cutlery and plates laid out, but Oliver’s mind had pretty much given up on the idea of a ‘nice date’ ever since the Alpha had brought him here. Not that he would expect the Alpha to know of many of the upper-class areas in the city either. Nor would Oliver admit to perhaps mentally thinking of this outing of theirs as a ‘date date’ before he actually got here.

“I promise it won’t be as bad as anything on the island,” Slade assures, hearing the doubt in Oliver’s voice.

Retrieving from the fridge a stick of butter, cooking oil and a container, Slade sets it all back on the bench. He also grabs a large cutting board from a cupboard underneath the tabletop, dropping it back on the granite with a large thump.

Oliver screws up his face watching Slade gather his ingredients, knowing this likely wasn’t a joke. Memories of all the gamey rabbit and poultry Slade had fed him over the months came rushing back to him and the Omega wondered if this meal would be better or worse.

“I hope it’s not a bird or anything,” Oliver sighs.

The meat looked too big to have come from a bird but then what did Oliver know? It could have come from a turkey or something but it didn’t look white enough to him either.

“It’s not,” Slade says, “I dunno how you like your meat either so you better tell me how I’m cooking it. There weren’t too many options for cooking things back on the island, you just had to shut up and eat what you were given. But I’ve prepared accordingly now for your likely very picky palate.”

Oliver raises an eyebrow, not quite having his concerns answered but also unsure as to what Slade meant by ‘preparing accordingly’ for him.

Slade tests the temperature of the pan heating up behind him, muttering something Oliver makes out as ‘not ready’. Although the Omega wasn’t really up for eating another one of Slade’s dead rabbits again if he could help it, he would admit he was marginally hungry. He hadn’t eaten since midday and had held off having dinner with his mother and sister as he would have expected to be eating when he was out with Slade.

It would have been around six now, lights from Starling City blown up like a Christmas tree outside coming in through large panelled windows to the left of them. Even with few lights turned on in the room it was still bright.

“I hope you didn’t learn to cook on the island,” Oliver eventually says, curiosity partially getting the better of him.

If from cooking on a fire, Slade had took that knowledge to cooking with an oven or a stove, Oliver would be worried about the meal he was expected to consume. At least maybe the food wouldn’t be as burnt as it would be cooked over a fire…?

“As a matter of fact, I didn’t,” Slade explains, “I wouldn’t consider myself great at it or anything. Some of your dishes here leave me a bit stumped as we don’t have anything like it in Australia, but I can cook. It’s more of a survival skill to me than just some pansy Omega field. Living on your own, if you can’t cook basic meals, you’re going to grow very sick and tired of takeout.”

Nodding, Oliver realizes it makes sense, though he wondered how long Slade had been ‘living on his own’ for. If he hadn’t learnt to cook on the island, that would be implying he knew how to cook before Lian Yu, and that would mean Slade presumably lived alone before that.

Noticing his momentary silence, Slade looks straight at Oliver.

“Before you go saying anything, you’re hopeless at cooking,” Slade points out, shaking his head, “And that’s saying something coming from an Omega.”

Oliver almost cringes at Slade’s such open usage of his dynamic. Like it was something Oliver could simply forget about if none of his friends nor himself paid it any mind. Something he should be ashamed of.

“I can’t say it’s something I’ve ever indulged in it,” Oliver admits, knowing Omegas were usually commonplace in hospitality fields.

Slade moves from around the bench, two sets of knives and forks in hand. Oliver watches him, the Alpha placing each set on opposite sides of a small wooden table. It was circular in shape; about the same size that you’d see in some restaurants, with a rich red cloth draped over it, the same colour as the walls.

“I would be surprised if you did,” Slade says, continuing to set the table, “I never took you for much of a house-Omega.”

Oliver isn’t sure whether to take that as a compliment or insult, though it was nice to be something other than what his dynamic was often expected and stereotyped to be.

“Thanks,” Oliver flatly returns.

“You better tell me how I’m cooking your meat as well. Pan will nearly be done heating shortly.”

Returning to the kitchen, Slade moves the thick-bottom pan slightly over the burner, noticing it hasn’t started smoking yet. Good, he didn’t want that.

“What is it?” Oliver asks, shifting on his seat though compliant to go along with whatever Slade had planned.

“Sirloin,” Slade offers, picking up the red meat off its plate and laying it on the chopping board.

It was bigger than the size of his hand.

“What?”

Looking dumbfounded for a moment, Oliver scowls when Slade cheekily grins at him.

“Steak cut from the rear of a cow.”

Slade couldn’t help feel the kid was sorely uneducated in some fields, but he supposes that’s what you got growing up on the upper crust of society. Food all served to you on a silver platter and little need to learn how to cook or look after yourself properly when there were others around to do it for you.

Oliver rolls his eyes slightly in distaste.

So beef… Why couldn’t the Alpha have just said that from the start?

“Are you going to answer any of my questions?” Oliver finally brings himself to ask.

Not demanding, just asking. If he and Slade weren’t at least going to discuss the elephant in the room he at least hoped they’d acknowledge it. Slade even admitted it himself, bringing Oliver back here like it would get an intentional rise out of him.

“Are you going to eat your food?” Slade more bluntly puts back to him, sounding slightly irritated.

The two of them exchange gazes for a moment, Oliver squirming with his legs under the counter where Slade couldn’t see them.

He didn’t particularly want to ruin their night, Slade having done all the work here in taking him out, but he also had been holding off asking Slade anything until they saw each other in person again. Most of the topics of discussion weren’t exactly things that could be talked about over text, or things he was comfortable letting his friends know about, it well within Felicity’s ability to break into his phone if she really wanted to.

“Alright, I’ll eat,” Oliver yields, unsure what else to say.

“Good.”

Pressing lightly on the silicon on the cutting board, Slade deems it about room temperature and ready for cooking.

“Please tell me you at least know how you liked your meat cooked?” Slade asks, keeping an eye on the stove.

If Oliver couldn’t tell him how he liked his beef cooked then the Alpha would just be doing guess work here. The last thing Slade needed was a whinging Oliver on his hands.

“Just cook it medium-rare,” Oliver confirms, leaning forward, one arm on the bench.

Noticing the salt, pepper, butter and cooking oil on the counter, Oliver decides to yield and just go with whatever Slade had in mind.

“Season it and flavour it however you usually would. I’m sure it can’t be as bad as anything you’ve made me eat before.”

Slade lightens up in the face, looking pleased with Oliver’s compliance, pulling a strip of cooking paper between the meat and the wooden board.

Oliver thinks he’d possibly offer to help, like he was often made to, skinning and removing parts of their soon-to-be-meal on Lian Yu. It was like the Alpha said though, he wasn’t the best at preparing meals, though Oliver would argue that most food you brought these days, the hard work of having to prepare it had already been done for you.

“Nothing serious until after dinner,” Slade says, voice completely neutral.

Before he can go to douse the meat in cooking oil, Oliver cuts him off.

“Wait, so you’ll answer my questions?” Oliver can’t help but blurt out with.

“No…”

Oliver frowns but doesn’t say anything, Slade’s eyes on preparing the food in front of them.

“Not yet.”

“When then?” Oliver presses.

Even if he sounded like an insistent child, and Slade could claim he was just the same as he was when they first met—the same kid—Oliver took Slade’s answer as somewhat of a ‘yes’.

So he pushed.

_I want answers._

“Later.”

“So tonight?”

Slade pays Oliver no mind for a second, drizzling cooking oil over the cut of meat, not needing to chop any undesirable sinews off the beef as he’d already done that. The butcher he’d started getting his meat from had done most of the work, but he wanted to make sure he was serving the Omega the best food he possibly could.

The Omega was a picky, privileged bastard after all, not just in his taste of food, and Slade still had a ways to go in proving to Oliver he wasn’t the villain the Omega might think he is.

Oliver pushing for the truth from him could potentially give way to good will between them, or it could backfire horribly and blow up in Slade’s face, like most things seemed to do these days for him.

Knowing the Omega was still watching him, Slade formats a response in his head while lathering the golden oil into both sides of the meat.

“On condition,” he says.

“What?” Oliver gapes, blinking.

“I’ll answer all your questions, but only on condition,” Slade confirms, looking Oliver directly in the eyes.

Dumping both salt and pepper onto the meat, Slade mops up the residual oil and condiments on the kitchen paper with the beef, trying to get as much available flavour into it.

“Alright. What’s the condition then?”

Slade checks the stove again, noticing the heat emanating off of it—not smoking—when he throws his palm over the pan. Deeming the soon-to-be steak mostly seasoned, Slade picks it up gently by both ends and lays it down in the skillet. The pan instantly hisses and Slade pulls back to wash his hands again, not caring that he was possibly too close to the heat there and the average person may have burned themselves.

“For every question you get to ask me, I get to ask to ask you something,” Slade says astute, swiftly going about cleaning up the small mess he’d made.

Oliver looks like he must be mulling it over head in his for a moment as the Omega lets out a heavy exhale before responding.

“Alright, but we both agree to elaborate.”

Slade nods, before redirecting his attention to preparing their dinner.

xxxxxxxx

Oliver watched Slade cook, leaned over on the countertop methodically. Eventually the Alpha got round to offering him some wine from a bar across from the kitchen, which the Omega choose a full-bodied red to accompany their steak. From the first sip and the rich scent of the liquid, Oliver knew it had to be expensive. The wine was strong though, his tolerance for alcohol having severely dropped since his early twenties, so he’d lay off drinking too much of it as he still wanted to be sentient to question Slade later. 

He was mildly impressed with the Alpha’s taste, feeling treated and like this was somewhat of a proper date he’d have in mind had he been planning the evening. Now if only Slade’s quality of food matched his quality of liquor, Oliver would have a content stomach for the rest of the evening.

The meat didn’t take long to cook to medium-rare—which he was assuming was how the Alpha also liked his meat as Slade didn’t separate the cut of steak before throwing it into the pan. Either that or the Alpha was just going along with his personal taste however Slade might have liked his steak done.

Slade had the meat in the pan for two-three minutes each side, turning it every sixty seconds or so with tongs, light steam erupting into the air. Nobs of butter, as well as crushed garlic and—what Oliver thought was—herbs from the container in the fridge went into the skillet as well. Slade appeared to brush the herbs and garlic over the meat, further seasoning it. Following it up with gathering the leftover melted butter in the pan on a spoon and pouring it over the now brown steak.

The two of them made small talk as Slade was finishing up, the Alpha explaining he’d left the meat out to come to room temperature shortly before he came to pick Oliver up. Slade said you didn’t want the meat to be cold on the inside and hot on the outside when you cooked it.

The stove went off, large slab of meat set aside on a plate, as Slade cleaned up the kitchen. Replacing everything in its proper places and dropping the skillet and tongs in the sink where he gave them a hard scrub.

It was a relatively short process, one Oliver surprisingly enjoyed watching—the Alpha working.

Slade withdrew a knife from a block on the bench after about two minutes of setting the meat aside, cutting it into about a dozen finger-sized pieces.

The inside of the meat was still pink, so that made Oliver confident that Slade had at least cooked the meat right.

Leaving the steak on a single plate, juices all flowing down the side of it, the Alpha set the steak in the middle of the pre-set table, between two plates, cutlery and napkins. A slice of meat went onto each of their plates. The bottle of wine Oliver had been drinking and Slade sipping on in between working the pan went down on the table as well.

Slade washed his hands a last time in preparation for eating and Oliver politely got up, following suit.

The table they were eating at was just to the side and in front of the longue suite. TV and what looked like the hallway leading into the rest of the apartment ending up to the back of Oliver, the Omega realized as he possibly carelessly seated himself. He hadn’t even thought to question whether the wine he was drinking and the food he was about to eat could possibly be drugged in his content mood either.

Yet it left Oliver with a warm feeling inside regardless as he and Slade began eating. Knowing from the way Slade dressed to the meal he cooked, the Alpha was trying to impress him, or at least garner his approval. Slade had kept that ‘act’ up ever since they’d last seen each other two weeks ago in his house so he was assuming Slade had to be genuine about it.

Just like this though… being around Slade right now, it was almost easy. Maybe that meant Oliver needed to drink more often, but that and going out every night as the Arrow sorely disagreed with one another.

He had no right to be outright condemning of Slade, despite what the Alpha may or may not have done.

xxxxxxxx

_I went looking for an angel and found the devil._


	3. Revelations II

Oliver laughs in between putting his fork down and taking another sip of wine.

Maybe the wine was going straight to his head but it certainly complimented the intensity of the dish well. While he choose the type of liquor, the Alpha offered the particular bottle.

The Alpha was an alright cook, he’d give him that, the two of them eating mostly in silence, an easy quiet falling over them. The meat not too tender, not too soft, but not like he’d tell Slade that. This one meal definitely made up for some of Slade’s worse ones.

“What’s so funny?” Slade asks, looking up at Oliver whilst cutting a piece of meat.

The Omega supresses another half-cough, half-laugh, putting down his glass before he ended up accidently spitting in it.

Slade takes a bite of meat off his fork, watching Oliver for a response.

“Nothing,” Oliver responds, leaning back into his chair, “I was just thinking that I hadn’t thought to consider you possibly drugging the drinks or food before I started digging into it.”

Slade shakes his head. The Alpha wasn’t sure if he was supposed to take that as a joke or the Omega insinuating something about him.

“ _That_ would be a waste of perfectly good food. Probably would make it taste like shit too.”

“I’m sure you’d get away with eating it,” Oliver adds.

Slade knows that’s likely true, the Mirakuru usually filtering out any potential harmful substances he put into his body quickly.

Dropping his knife and fork on the cleaned plate, Slade collects the leftovers between them and gathers up Oliver’s cutlery as well, Alpha getting up from the table. Not quite ready to wash up yet with Oliver still here, Slade leaves everything on the countertop, bare plates in the second empty sink, beside the full one, before returning to the table.

Oliver hadn’t said much as to the quality of his cooking but Slade took that as a good thing. No feedback—a lack of complaining from Oliver—was good feedback.

“You watched me cook the food,” Slade says, settling back into his chair, “I didn’t have time to do anything to it other than what you saw. If I drugged the wine too, I would have had to have done every bottle over there as I had no idea what you were going to want.”

Downing some of the liquor in his glass, Slade watches Oliver visibly appear to format a response to his logic behind his eyes.

“True.”

“I hope that wasn’t a serious accusation either. If I wanted to drug you or knock you out, there’d be plenty easier ways to do it then sweating on you eating some food.”

Oliver and Slade both knew that to be true.

They were just sitting across from each other now, food eaten but the bottle of wine left about half-full on the table. Oliver knows this is probably his opportunity to try and get some answers out of Slade, the both of them in a good mood.

He almost didn’t want to ruin the semi-enjoyable atmosphere between them though.

Oliver looks down at his glass for a moment, swirling the liquid around in it like it would give him the answers to his problems.

“Oi, you better not be completely shit-faced,” Slade quips.

Putting his wine back on the table, Oliver straightens up facing the Alpha. Slade leans forward in his chair, elbows on the tablecloth whereas Oliver keeps his back straight in his chair.

“So…” Slade starts, trailing off.

It seemed as if Oliver wasn’t the only one that didn’t know what to say.

Slade had been somewhat anxious to talk to Oliver after they ate, despite rehearsing in his mind a lot of the questions he thought he might get asked and how he would answer them. Albeit he wasn’t quite sure what the Omega’s reaction to any of it would be.

Oliver thankfully fills the silence as Slade doesn’t.

“It’s been a while since we’ve actually talked like this,” Oliver says, looking downcast and then out the window.

He wasn’t as restless as he was before in Slade’s presence but the Omega still equally felt like he was at a loss for words at times. It felt like so much had been riding on this moment, that when it actually came to getting to it, Oliver wasn’t quite sure if he could do it. He didn’t particularly feel like interrogating Slade at the moment.

Slade shifts in front of him, fingering the collar on his shirt, looking slightly taken aback.

_He smells good too._

“Back at your place doesn’t count?”

Shaking his head, Oliver gives a no.

“What? So you’re not immediately going to attack me either? Dinner is technically over now and I gave you my word we could talk after eating.”

“Food was good,” Oliver assures, “But yeah, I’m not going to.”

_I don’t want to prosecute you._

“All that prior hostility of yours today, all for nought,” Slade snorts.

The Alpha makes a face like he’s laughing at Oliver on the inside, yet their eyes never leave.

Oliver thought there really wasn’t much else for them to do in this situation other than _talk_.

“I wasn’t being hostile, just… unsure,” Oliver admits, running a hand through the back of his hair.

“And I gave you the right to ask me whatever you liked too.”

Slade sits back from the table, creating more distance between them, one elbow still on the cloth.

“You go first; ask me… whatever you want. It seems only right.”

“What? So how does this work? Do I ask you something, you answer, and then you ask me something?”

“Yep.”

“Oh okay.”

Oliver thought it sounded more like they were going to play twenty questions with each other rather than have a serious discussion. He didn’t know what he wanted to ask the older man either, so he went with starting off easy.

“How’d you know I was the Arrow?”

Slade’s face immediately blooms into a cheeky smile.

“Because I’m not stupid.”

Brows furrowed, Oliver frowns telling the Alpha his explanation wasn’t good enough.

“Come on,” Slade responds, throwing his hands out in a gesture.

“Prodigal son returns home after five years lost at sea, hooded vigilante with a bow starts running around shortly after. It wasn’t all that hard to connect the dots.”

A stone drops in the pit of Oliver’s stomach. Slade made it sound so obvious, that he was the Vigilante and all his attempts to keep his identity a secret were for nothing.

Was that true? Was he really that transparent?

How many other people could have known then, about him? If a complete foreigner to the city like Slade could figure it out…

Doubt filled Oliver’s mind as he fiddled with his fingers under the table.

Slade shoots him a dark but earnest gaze.

“I know what you’re thinking. Are you really that easy to read? Just like an open book? No, you aren’t. It took me a while before I was absolutely certain it was you, but then I was looking for all the evidence that would suggest so.”

More questions are immediately raised in Oliver’s mind rather than him feeling like he’d just gotten an answer. What did Slade mean by ‘looking for all the evidence?’ What evidence? What possible information could Slade have used to discern him as the Arrow? Whatever it was, he wanted to know about it, that way he could pull the rug over any potential loose ends he might have had lying around.

Pushing those concerns to the back of his mind, Oliver steels himself.

Now only if he could get over how distracting Slade’s scent was at times…

“Alright, go.”

“Starting off small are we? Hmm?”

Slade smirks, stroking a hand over the stubble on his face as if he was actually pondering what to ask Oliver.

“Just go,” Oliver urges.

Slade had answered his question so easily, maybe because the Alpha hadn’t given him a total explanation to his query, yet he still seemed to answer it calmly and collectively all the same.

Whereas Oliver was fretting inside.

“Why do you do it?”

“Hmm?" Oliver mumbles in between taking another drink of liquor.

“Why do you do it?” Slade reaffirms.

“Why do you run around every night with your bow and arrow? Once outright killing the criminals in this city but now just incapacitating them for the police to come get?”

At Slade’s words, Oliver flinches slightly, hearing himself and ‘killing’ used in the same sentence together.

“What’s it to you?” the Omega retorts, not seeing how this was relevant to their current situation.

“I’m curious… And besides, you can ask me whatever you want and I’ll answer. So I should be able to expect the same from you.”

Oliver releases a sound somewhere between a groan and a whine. He doesn’t even remember it being this hard to tell Diggle and Felicity about his crusade, and they were on-board it with him.

Slade continues to have eyes on him.

Less Beta spray around his neck and collar seemed to be having the unsurprising though somewhat good yet mostly bad effect of meaning his sense of smell wasn’t as impaired and clogged as it usually was. Most things smelt about the same, albeit stronger however he was far more acutely aware of the opposite dynamic’s pheromones than usual.

He had absolutely no trouble picking up the Alpha scent, rich and overpowering wafting off of Slade—a more potent scent than those Oliver was used to picking up in the city. Maybe that suggested Slade wasn’t from an urban part of Australia—was much of it even urban? Or more likely it hinted and tied into his masculine nature—something not all ‘domestic’ city Alphas quite had—, a certain predatory quality.

Apex Alpha, maybe?

It was more of a coined phrase than any scientific terminology—Oliver knew it wasn’t uncommon for aristocrats to try and push it as such though—, a term used to describe Alphas that had no Betas in their family tree and still held to certain ‘rudimentary values’.  Allegedly, Alphas were the first ones to carry the ‘Beta gene’, and when that gene became active, Betas were born.

Or so Oliver was lead to believe by his father. Hence why guardians would often insist on pre-approving potential mates before they let them near their Omega offspring.

Oliver wondered if all the blame on Alphas for supposedly ruining their ‘perfect race’ was just Omegas shifting the responsibility onto the dynamic they once left mostly in charge. Trying to avoid taking potential blame on their parts as certainly many more people than just _some_ Alphas would have to carry the ‘Beta gene’ now?

Often people who had the money and assets to seek out the sometimes elusive Alpha-Omega courtships and the supposedly ‘untainted’ lines, found so much as proven carrying of the ‘Beta gene’  condemnable in their high society.

Possession of the gene wasn’t really provable without backtracking up the immediate family tree to look for Betas or intervention on science’s behalf, but Omegas were often thought to be able to smell the difference between a true Alpha—with generations of Alphas and Omegas behind it—and a ‘quasi-Alpha’. Omegas had the best olfactory system of the dynamics, probably due to their inbuilt flight nature over fight, but Oliver rarely trusted his nose anyway so what would he know?

All he knew was that Slade had a very distinct smell, a smell like sandalwood and heavy musk that the Alpha obviously made no attempt to hide. A scent that reminded Oliver of the kind of Alphas his father would push as admissible suitors or potential mates he’d let near his son but Oliver fobbed off like that was never going to happen.

Oliver didn’t know if he found that stray thought comforting or alarming, though the Omega would admit he wasn’t going to let any suitor take him without a fight. It would at least be interesting to have an Alpha around that could try…

Shaking that thought from his head, Oliver tells himself to stop smelling Slade. Robert wasn’t around anymore so he had little need to worry about his father’s disapproval of who he would bend over or bend over for.

Oliver refrains from inhaling deeply, as doing so made him think about yielding in Slade’s presence. If he was going to make a habit of backing off on the Beta spray, maybe he ought to start by doing it first _not_ around Slade…

“I told you back at Verdant—not today, but a couple weeks ago—that I had an oath,” Oliver chooses to start with.

“Which for the most part was true. Before… Before my dad died, he told me he wasn’t the man I thought he was, or even possibly the man anyone thought he was. He said… that he didn’t help the city—our city—he failed it. He helped run it into the ground where it is today along with others.

He told me I had to survive, to right his wrongs, to save the city.”

Slade is quiet the entire time listening to Oliver’s explanation. He doesn’t allow his face to show it but inside he’s thinking of the moron Oliver’s father is. Telling his son a thing like that, like the father’s crusade should become the son’s crusade like it was some sort of birthright to be inherited.

The Alpha doesn’t say anything of that sort however, seeing from the way the Omega’s eyes glazed over and he looked out the window at the lit-up city, the subject was a touchy one for him.

Yet Slade also notices somewhat of a discrepancy in Oliver’s tale.

“Your father told you all of this before you were shipwrecked?”

If he did, he sounded like an even bigger dick than Slade would have originally thought.

Oliver meets Slade’s gaze again for a moment, pupils seeming to focus again in his eyes.

“No. He said it all before he shot himself in the head on the lifeboat.”

Slade immediately regrets asking the question at all.

Despite the fact that Oliver’s half-assed explanation for doing what he does—going out playing hero every night—just seemed to come down to his dad screwing him up in the head right before he killed himself.

_Poor kid…_

“I’m sorry,” Slade immediately apologizes.

There are no tears in Oliver’s eyes but his voice was unbelievably more sombre than usual.

“It’s okay,” Oliver says, seeming less bothered by the situation than Slade was.

“I’m over it now. No time to grieve about it… I thought my father was a real right bastard to me at times, but… He killed himself so that I could live, with the intention that I would go on living. He sacrificed himself so that I could live. So I suppose he loved me, in his own way.

I couldn’t squander that, I suppose. I couldn’t not try and do what he hoped to do. Not after he gave his life for mine.”

The Omega’s elaboration still felt to Slade like he was getting partial cliff notes on the situation. Like there were certain things that just didn’t add up to him. The change in the Vigilante’s ‘targets’ between a year ago and now, Oliver no longer putting an arrow in those targets, among other things.

Slade didn’t have the heart to continually push or ask the Omega for questions potentially related to his father’s death though.

Oliver releases a heavy exhale, sagging forward in his chair.

“Forget I asked,” the Alpha says.

Nodding, Oliver accepts Slade’s apology despite not being overly concerned about it himself.

Their conversation didn’t seem to be going the way either of them expected or intended it to go.

Mentally shaking of the last strands of his past, Oliver composes himself.

“Don’t you back out on me now, old man,” Oliver scolds, “I’ve still got things I want to ask you.”

xxxxxxxx

After the first round of questioning, Slade and Oliver seemed to get over their initial awkwardness with one another. The Omega quickly recovering from bringing his father’s death up and the two of them slipping into a routine of exchanging information, rather than feeling like they were interrogating each other.

Slade and Oliver started belting through their questions, as well as the rest of the wine bottle.

Oliver would ask a question, Slade would deliver.

Then Slade would ask a question and Oliver would answer.

Sometimes they were less questioning one another and more just confirming what they already knew.

“You’ve been in Starling City for a while, haven’t you?”

“I have,” the Alpha snickered.

“How long?”

“Longer than you know. Biding my time… I’ve been hanging about since before the start of last year, 2013.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“Ah, ah,” Slade would tut, “You’ve had your one question, now it’s my turn.”

Oliver had flopped back into his chair defeated; removing his hands off the table from where he’d gone to pull himself up.

Slade was a lot more selective with his questions, albeit Oliver not always seeing why they were relevant or why Slade cared to know the answers to them. It seemed like while Oliver’s questions were serious, Slade’s questions were trivial prying for information at best.

“Oi, so what ever happened with you and that girl in the picture you looked at so much? The Beta’s sister?”

“It didn’t work out,” Oliver would respond, “She hates my guts. Probably because I got her sister killed.”

Probably also because after coming back from the island, he got her boyfriend at the time to sleep with him, causing things to become complicated between them despite her not knowing that part of his involvement in the situation. And then… said Alpha—Tommy—was killed in the Undertaking.

Heartbreak all around.

The two of them continued on that way for a while—just talking.

“What’s with this building you live in? Do you actually live here? I don’t think this is the same room as last time?”

“You’re correct in thinking that, this isn’t the same room I brought you too last time to put your ass in its place. But yeah, I needed the space around here.”

“Needed the space? It doesn’t look like you use much of it?”

“Not that you see.”

“Okay, you go.”

Of course, not all of their conversation had been intended to be completely serious. Had it? If it had, that premise was forgotten in the presence of good times and maybe a little bit of alcohol.

Some of their questions seemed to turn slightly random, sometimes not even able to be considered questions at all. Things that albeit strange, seemed perfectly fine to share with one another. They had spent months living together on a mostly deserted, hostile island after all.

Oliver lost his virginity at sixteen to a Beta girl, which turned out to be a very uncoordinated experience. Slade seemed to be impressed Oliver had managed to remain chaste for that long.

Slade, on the other hand, had allegedly had sex with nearly just as many Alphas as he had Omegas. A probable side-effect of there being so many Alphas in the armed forces. Oliver jokingly asked if Slade had been the receptive partner in any of those situations there.

After a short time of mostly mindlessly questioning one another, sort of re-evaluating where they both stood—on good terms with one another—, the almost empty wine bottle and glasses put to the side, Slade didn’t have a question to ask when Oliver offered the opportunity to ask one over to him.

So far, it didn’t even seem like they’d actually managed to learn that much about each other—or rather from each other—and in spite of that, Slade didn’t actually feel like he really had anything else to ask Oliver.

He felt like he’d almost just been improvising from the start, Oliver certainly the one who had all the burning questions on his mind. Yet the Omega hadn’t seemed to have asked him many of those questions Slade logically thought Oliver would either?

“Hey,” Slade says, “are you… going to ask me at all what I’m doing in the city? What I’m doing here at all?”

Slade didn’t know why he felt the need to bring it up, almost confused that the Omega himself hadn’t mentioned it at all.

“I don’t feel I need to. At least not right now,” Oliver exhales, sounding genuine.

“Why not?”

Oliver bites his lip for a moment, something akin to worry etching into his face.

“Because I know I’m not going to like the full-blown explanation any more than I don’t like what I already know.”

A sliver of guilt stabs Slade in the chest at Oliver’s words, but no doubt he deserved it.

“Well,” Slade says, checking to make sure his voice is steady before going on.

“Why don’t you tell me what you know, or rather suspect, and we’ll go from there?”

Although Oliver had been drinking and his mind might have been mildly incapacitated from it all, the Omega’s words come out crystal clear and sentient.

“You’re in charge of the man in the skull mask, Cyrus Gold. Everything related to the Mirakuru reproduction here in Starling City, all the people that have died… You allowed it to happen. Possibly more too, other things I don’t know of.”

The Omega doesn’t meet Slade’s gaze as he speaks, and the Alpha feels horrible inside.

He just wants to apologize, for everything, beg for forgiveness from the Omega. But he knows he can’t do that. He made the bed he know lay in—more like the grave—and he had to pull himself out of it.

Slade may manage to keep his face straight and his body from going completely tharn yet inside he felt like hell.

“I’m not particularly proud of any of those things,” Slade says, not denying any of what Oliver’s just said.

He doesn’t know if it’s a look of disbelief or relief that crosses Oliver’s face as the younger man closes his eyes momentarily. Disbelief because he could have actually done those things, or relief because at least Slade wasn’t trying to deny it?

Slade doesn’t get a chance to read too much into Oliver’s facial expression as when the Omega refocuses on him it’s with boring icy eyes.

“But why? Why would you do any of those things? I get it you hated me; maybe you still should hate me. I stabbed you, I ruined you, I fucked you up in the head, but does that really justify you doing all those things? Was it really that bad? If it was really so bad that it meant you had to do all of this, just to get back at me, just to teach me a lesson…”

Oliver pauses for a moment before his voice escalates into a shout.

“Why don’t you still hate me now—”

“—Because it has nothing to do with you!”

Slade’s palm comes down on the table between them, silencing both of their shouts. The wood doesn’t splinter or crack beneath his hand but the noise it produces is loud over the two of them quickly falling quiet.

The Alpha looks at Oliver almost as shocked as the Omega looks back at him.

He shouldn’t have done that… He. Should. Not. Have. Done. That.

Slade had no right to be angry at Oliver and the Omega cringing like a deer caught in a car’s headlights in front of him reminds him of that. Underneath all that armour Oliver had created and all the suffering he must have endured, there was still a traumatised kid who got shipwrecked on an island there.

The Alpha removes his hand from the table and deflates back onto his chair.

Oliver looks at him with an expression midway between disgust and defiance. Or maybe Slade was just imaging that?

“I’m sorry,” Slade says again.

If he got angry, he’d possibly lose it. Slade knew that. He had a short-fuse temper to begin, something that could easily get the better of him. But mixed in with the Mirakuru inside of him is where things got out of control.

Calm, calm… Gotta stay calm.

Slade waits for Oliver to say something, that he deserves to go die in a hole even, but the Omega says nothing. Just looks at him with his head titled to one side and a blank mask up on his face.

Slade doesn’t really want to have to explain _this_ to Oliver, something he was both ashamed and frightened of—a rare thing for him—but he forces himself to do it anyway.

“I should probably thank you.”

Their eyes still following one another, Oliver makes a noise barely above a whisper. Slade picks it up though, and it sounds like a ‘hmm’.

“Your reluctance to outright kill me and stubbornness to not go along with what I blindly believed, pulled me back. We wouldn’t be here, sitting here today if it wasn’t for you. I might not even be here at all.”

Oliver surprisingly seems to be listening to his words and taking them in, though the Omega’s facial expression remains mostly vacant.

“I don’t get it… What do you mean? You told me just a few weeks ago you hated me for stabbing you in the face. And I-I… I wasn’t… I didn’t want to have to kill you.”

Voice cracking in the middle, Oliver swipes a face over his mouth as if to steady his vocal cords.

He could have… he would have done it. Oliver possibly would have killed Slade had the Alpha continually forces his hand. If it was between Slade’s demise and the continued lives of innocents in the city—his friends, his family. There was… There was no choice to make. Or at least that’s what he told Felicity after he put three arrows in the Count for holding his friend hostage.

Killing dulled the soul, that much was for sure, ripped it asunder as taking other’s lives would surely only take yours in the end. When there was no alternative to killing though… the lives of many outweighed the life of one. At least… supposedly it did.

But what kind of cruel choice was it to have to choose between the lives of your friends?

Oliver shakes himself from his thoughts, almost… relieved that it hadn’t come down to that. That Slade was still reasonable and not a rabid dog that needed to be put down.

“What I told you was… partially true,” Slade murmurs.

A white lie then, Oliver deduces.

“Then what’s the rest of the truth?”

Slade sits up, leaning over on the table closer to Oliver.

“I see things…”

xxxxxxxx

_I gave the demon my heart and it took my soul._


	4. Revelations III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has a few notes at the end for those of you who read them.
> 
> The internal monologue/quote-things I’ve been dropping at the end of every _Revelations_ chapter also finish with this one. I think it should be pretty understandable whose they are…
> 
> I also found I listened to a lot of _Take Me To Church_ by _Hozier_ writing the _Revelations_ three-parter, particularly this part. Possibly give it a listen for something atmospheric related to the chapter, if you’re into that.

_“I see things…”_

Oliver doesn’t feel at all shocked by the revelation. In fact, it seemed like something Slade had alluded to in their past conversations but had never actually been able to come out and say straight.

“Like what?” Oliver asks, hopefully as politely as possible.

He was questioning the Alpha’s sanity after all. He felt the need to ask for… specifics though.

“Just… just shit.”

“Didn’t we agree on elaboration?”

Oliver keeps his voice stern though not imposing. There was room for Slade to say no to him. Tell him to screw off.

“Question time’s over, kid. But… I think it’s at its most concise the less I elaborate. It doesn’t make a lot of sense, even to me. Now that I think about it…”

“It doesn’t have to make sense,” Oliver says, shaking his head, “But the less you explain, the less I have to believe. I don’t need to know about the things you’ve done, if you don’t want to tell me or aren’t ready to tell me, you don’t have to. I don’t need to know. But you at least have to tell me why. How am I supposed to believe anything you say without an explanation to it all?”

His words must cut like a knife, but if Slade is hurt, he doesn’t show it.

“Alright,” Slade responds, face lax and loose.

“But don’t say anything until I’m done.”

Oliver nods in agreement, not thinking to question as to why Slade wanted him silent.

Slade sucks in a deep breath of air before he starts talking.

“For what felt like the longest time on the island, I thought you were dead. I thought I’d killed you... I woke up covered in blood, your scent and ripping part of my eye out. I think my horror at the time was justified.  There was no proof I’d killed you, no body and I was sure none of the blood on my hands was yours. But, I felt it. I felt like you were dead.

I thought I must have lost control or something—and I did—, gravely wounding you, then you must have stabbed me in the head and limped off to die. You weren’t around… I’d just killed a bunch of people in your name with the intention that would be saving you and keeping you alive. But then I must have killed you too. You were completely justified in hurting me at the time, considering what I’d done. I didn’t hate you back then, I hated myself.”

Oliver tries to keep his face straight in between Slade’s explanation but accidently lets out a wince. The Alpha doesn’t seem to notice however, lost in his own thoughts staring off at a spot behind Oliver’s shoulder.

“I-I couldn’t… I couldn’t live with myself. I fled all the way to the other side of the island until I hit the shore. I didn’t want to find your body; I didn’t want to have to bury you, not like Shado or Yao Fei. In that moment, I just didn’t want to know about anything. And I dunno how long I stayed that way for. Just carrying on existing, but not really living. I was stuck in limbo. Eat, sleep, repeat.”

There wasn’t much of it in the Alpha’s story, yet Oliver could tell very clearly from the tone of Slade’s voice that he was destroyed by losing _him_. Destroyed by essentially becoming alone in his the world.

“My eye came back after a time, I don’t exactly remember when. Full vision took a little longer to come back to it but I’d grown accustomed to covering it up. Not just ‘cause it was… unsightly and a hindrance in the beginning. But I felt like… without not having that eye—even if in the end I was just pretending it wasn’t there—I didn’t have any proof you ever existed. I had no proof you were ever there. In that end that’s truly what I ended up doing.

And after maybe a couple days or so, I finally worked up the guts to go looking for you again. Well y’know, whatever was left of you. And I-I… I found you.”

Slade’s breath hitches like he’s just been wounded, Oliver immediately dismaying as to what exactly Slade found. A body left unpreserved—a corpse—for more than several days would be well and truly starting to rot.

The Alpha brushes both hands over his face, pulling the skin down with his fingers but not hard enough to puncture anything.

“Oh… you looked the same as always. I found you on the other side of the beaches. You were just there, standing there, staring out into the horizon… I almost thought you were a dream. And then you turned around and smiled. That big dumb, stupid smile of yours. You walked right over to me like you’d never left. No blood, no corpse, no nothing—you were just the same as always. You walked and talked the same way, stupid kid. We went back to the fuselage, and things seemed to lapse back into normality.”

A sad smile graces Slade’s face. Oliver’s body goes completely rigid.

The Omega didn’t want to know how this story ended, because he already knew. He and Slade had never met again after what happened on Ivo’s freighter until the Alpha was here in Starling City.

Whatever Slade saw, was surely _not him_. It was worse too, as what Slade found wasn’t even a dead body or something that possibly could be passed off as _him_. It was worse.

“Some things were off, you never quite… smelt right. Sometimes you smiled too often, other times not enough, but it never reached your eyes. You were a blank slate whenever it came to Shado or Yao Fei, the fact that they’d died. It was like you had no idea who they were. Not even the mention of the Beta girl got you going.

There was something… there was always something wrong with you. For a while, I didn’t care. We were damaged and I was just content to go on living, knowing and having you around, alive. Things didn’t stay that way for long though. Maybe a couple days, maybe more, maybe less.  I went to ask you eventually, what happened on Ivo’s freighter. I gave you space; I gave you the time to come to me yourself. But eventually I asked you what happened, why you left me, why you stabbed me in the face…

You told me I killed you and that I had to die now too. You were going to kill me.”

From the corner of his eye, Slade sees Oliver go to stand up.

The Omega gets to his feet, opening his mouth to say something but Slade holds a hand up to silence him.

“Don’t. Don’t you dare say anything yet. You need to hear the rest of it.”

Slade avoids looking at Oliver as the Omega returns to sitting. He wasn’t sure he could look at Oliver, see the no doubt shock and horror on his face, and still be able to continue speaking.

It was bad enough as it is, he could still hear the ghost’s voice in his head.

_Please, don’t hurt me._

The way it spoke in a voice that was entirely Oliver’s but entirely not.

_Don’t do this, Slade…_

And then its facial expression would twist, teeth like daggers coming out from its face, eyes as dark and deep as the sea—

—And it would attack. It would come for _him_ …

“I probably shouldn’t call _it_ _you_ ,” Slade re-begins, “Especially not to your face.”

“It’s not you. It never was. It’s just… it’s just a fucking IT. Even now I have trouble separating the two of you, considering the two of you separate entities.

I should have known though… I should have known better. I should have known when you… _it_ went to shove a shiv between my ribcage, it wasn’t _you_. You never had the balls to do anything like that. I know it’s not supposed to be real but it scared the shit out of me.

It jumped on top of me and… I-I… I got rid of it. I got rid of it for a time. It went away and it disappeared. I hated having to try and kill something that wore your face. But of course, it came back.”

Oliver sees Slade’s whole body visibly shake. His eyes closed and his whole frame racked like he was severely ill, obviously remembering what had happening. There was no strength in his face; none of the Alpha Oliver knew that would beat the shit out of him every day just to teach him how to survive. The Alpha that protected him day-in-day-out on the island despite the fact that he could very much be a hindrance at times.

A large part of Oliver screams at him to do something. Like an Omegan part of his nature kicking in and telling him to go over and comfort the Alpha. _His Alpha_.

Slade was haunted by a ghost of him and Oliver wanted to touch and assure the Alpha he’d never do something like that. It wasn’t the real him. Not him. It was never him.

Oliver would never want to intentionally hurt him.

Oliver had to be sensible about this though. If he touched Slade out of the blue he might lash out and the both of them would potentially get hurt. From personal experience, he knew that when people were in anxious or highly emotional states, they couldn’t always immediately distinguish friend from foe and would attack regardless of having that knowledge.

The first night coming back from the island, sleeping in his own house albeit on the floor, he’d put his mother on the carpet for so much as touching him in his sleep.

Being put in physical pain didn’t matter to Oliver at the moment though.

_I can’t let him do this… not for me._

He didn’t want to hear it or see it, Slade appearing to be visibly suffering just to tell him something. That albeit the former could explain some things, bring some clarity to why Slade was driven to do the things he did, driven to want to ruin Oliver’s life… Destroy _the other…_ It didn’t warrant the current distress Slade seemed to have put himself in.

Oliver moved slowly, not sure what he was going to do, but making sure he was quiet about it all the same. Slade seemingly remaining fixated on speaking but also not looking at him, like he’d entered some sort of trance.

“ _It_ never stayed for as long a period of time as it initially did. Always either in the corner of my left sight or at a far enough distance away that although it may not have seemed readily threatening, it was still visible and definitely there. It just followed me… seemingly manifesting in and out of sight. Sometimes I might have thought it was there, been anxious about it, but it never was really fucking there, now was it?

It drove me over the edge eventually, trying to get away from it, trying to get some respite. I had to get off the island, or at least try even if it damn killed me. There was no way I was getting rescued; bastards at ASIS had probably given up on me and Wintergreen years ago. So I backtracked to the south side of the island and swan out to sea.”

Slade could taste the saltwater in the back of his throat just thinking about it. The images in his mind were still so vivid, as if they had happened yesterday as opposed to five years ago. Just like the revenant of Oliver was, an incredibly vivid hallucination. Memories of the past and things that surely didn’t exist seeming almost more lifelike to the Alpha than the present was.

If he kept his eyes closed, he could almost forget Oliver was watching him.

Talking to Oliver when the Omega wasn’t really there seemed to have become a speciality of Slade’s now. The real Oliver’s silence was far less accusatory than the dead-eyed doll version of him was though.

Or at least, Slade hoped this was the real Oliver he was talking to now. Not the imposter lying in wait in the dark, sharpening his knife waiting for Slade to look at him. _If I can’t see you, you can’t see me_ never seemed to work for Slade.

Slade swallows hard, feeling how dry his mouth was, like he’d been drinking seawater.

“It was a horrendous experience. I didn’t even know if I was heading out south but geographically that was the way I had originally come from and I had hoped swimming out in any direction for long enough I’d get somewhere. Probably a recipe for suicide. I stripped off everything, left even my custom-made swords behind because I had no idea how long I’d be in the water for and couldn’t afford to be weighed down in the least.

Lian Yu’s in the East China Sea, I can tell you now there’s bugger all out there. No crocodiles, but plenty of sharks. I tried to follow the direction of the sun to determine the true north. Back home, the sun rises in the east and sets in the west, though I don’t know if the same applies out there.

It didn’t matter though, the sea was strong; waves pushing me left to right constantly, the rip current dragged me under. At times I thought I was going to die. I fled the island to get away from IT only to end up doggy paddling for my life. I drowned and the ocean carried me wherever it pleased. I don’t think I swam straight for more than an hour at a time. The rocks on the reef and the sea floor cut my flesh up to the bone; I bled like a stuck pig. Jellyfish stung me and I went into hypothermia.

But I survived, and after two sunsets at sea I washed up onto a peninsula of Okinawa.”

Slade didn’t want Oliver’s pity, didn’t want the Omega to know his suffering indeed felt like hell, yet he had to be concise all the same. Not owning up to the details now would only be digging himself a deeper grave for later.

Breathing in sharply, Slade notices Oliver’s sweet vanilla scent beneath its sterile chemicals smelt stronger than usual. Closer.

Slade’s eyes snap open and the hair on the back of his neck stands on end the moment he feels he’d been touched. The touch is just above his knee and Slade slams his spine as far back into his chair as it will go.

Shit, shit, was it touching him? Was it on him? Slade couldn’t really touch or hurt it, even with all his enhanced strength but the ghost would most certainly hurt him.

“Hey, hey. It’s just me,” Oliver’s voice coos as the Omega comes into view, kneeling down in front of him.

 _That’s_ what it would say though. That’s exactly something that wasn’t Oliver would say.

Slade shakes, he’s immediately worried about what it’s going to do to him or going to say. What’d it do with the real Oliver? Where’d Oliver go? Was the Omega ever really here or was he just conversing with the reverent the entire time?

Was he truly and utterly mad? Was he asleep right now, maybe this was all just a bad dream? A dream would certainly be better than reality.

It was so hard to want to wrap his hands around the long, beautiful neck of something that looked just like Oliver. That neck he’d rather be biting and kissing, leaving blue bruises down the throat of to tell the real Omega he cared and send the message to all other Alphas that they could screw off.

The Alpha’s breathing hitches as Oliver offers him a sad, slight smile.

God no, no, no. IT had changed. It looked different now. The ghost had always taken the shape of the last time he ‘saw’ Oliver. Back on the island, all shaggy hair and scraggly beard—that’s what it was supposed to look like. How dare it look like Oliver did now! Hair all shorn off and scars peeking out from the collar of Oliver’s black dress shirt.

Slade growls, deep and rumbling in the back of his throat and chest.

How fucking dare it come and tarnish every single memory—be them real or not—he had of the ‘real Oliver’!

Ire and anger boiled inside of him.

Lunging forward, Slade coils one hand around the demon’s neck as he pushes it to the floor, the other hand slamming the top of the table out of the way so he could get the reverent perfectly on the ground.

The table hits the lounge suite, falling over on itself as the demon’s back hits the ground beneath Slade throwing himself on top of it. IT had a habit of disappearing like smoke on the wind as soon as Slade went to harm it, but not this time.

The demon makes an injured sound as it hit the carpet, its head not quite slamming into the ground behind it.

It could be quite the actor, a siren call’s he had been too naïve to resist in the beginning as it looked oh so much like Oliver. The moment it opened its mouth, verbal poison would flow out. Not this time though. It was the devil. Slade couldn’t show any mercy, it certainly wouldn’t towards him.

Slade kept the one hand on its throat, elbow pinning its left arm at the tricep to the floor as his other hand drug into its right wrist. He’d managed to land them in a position so that he was sitting right on top of it, right on its stomach so it wouldn’t be able to move any of its limbs.

As it trembled beneath him, Slade snarled at it, lowering himself above its face.

It was so beautiful, just like Oliver—but it was an imposter! It didn’t deserve to look anything like _him_!

“If hurting me will make you feel better—”

It goes to speak, looking straight into Slade’s fiery eyes but the Alpha silences it with a roar of his own.

“It won’t! It won’t make me feel better! Don’t taunt me either. Don’t act all sweet and innocent like him, ‘cause you’re not _him_! The only thing that would make me feel better right now is if would go the fuck away and never come back!”

Oliver’s heart thumped like a drum in his chest.

He couldn’t move very much apart from his head, legs trapped beneath Slade’s weight and feeling like pins and needles were starting to attack them as well. His arms were a little less confined however Oliver didn’t think trying to test the strength of Slade’s makeshift restraints on him at the moment would be wise.

He had to refrain from further agitating the Alpha yet he had no idea as to how not to do that. He didn’t know what to do anymore; he didn’t know what to say either. The second he touched Slade the Alpha froze and the moment he started speaking the Alpha went wild and tackled him to the floor. Not that he could blame Slade or hold it against him based on what the Omega had heard, but obviously his attempt to comfort Slade had backfired. Badly.

Slade stared at him with fury in his eyes Oliver didn’t think he’d ever seen before. His eyes were so dark, accusatory and condemning.

Oliver knew this hatred wasn’t aimed at him—possibly never at him—but he still felt bad all the same.

With Slade’s thumb still pressed over his throat, Oliver swallows, trying to find his voice.

“I’m sorry,” Oliver starts.

“No, you’re not. You liar,” Slade retorts, baring his teeth like fangs.

The Alpha tightened his grip around Oliver’s wrist and the Omega had to supress a cry of pain from coming out of him. Slade’s nails were blunt, digging into his skin more painfully than sharp ones would. It’s not enough to draw blood though, not that Oliver could see or feel.

He’d had worse. Oliver had endured worse though. Just not usually from his friends…

“But I am,” Oliver says, waiting for further pain to explode in his body.

It doesn’t. Slade simply staying on top of him, still as a statue.

“I-I could have been there. Maybe I could have stopped this from happening.”

“Your presence stopped nothing from happening! Your presence only made everything worse,” Slade spits.

Slade’s words stung Oliver yet he knew the Alpha felt like he wasn’t looking at the ‘real him’ right now.

Maybe he had to play along with that? Stop trying to convince Slade he was ‘himself’ and start trying to convince Slade he wasn’t ‘it’. He had to trust in Slade’s sentience to be able to separate him from a reverent of himself though.

“No, my presence didn’t do any of that. It… It was my absence that did. I wasn’t there for you when you needed me… I left you.”

Trying to pick his neck up to better meet the Alpha’s gaze, Oliver is halted by Slade’s hand on his throat moving up to around his chin. The Alpha’s thumb and index finger pressed in on both sides of his jaw as Slade forced their eyes to lock.

“The only thing I gained in your absences was respite!” Slade snapped.

“And now! Why do you come back now? Suddenly want to have a discussion all of a sudden, you wretched thing!”

A feeble part inside of Oliver quaked with fear.

If he couldn’t get through to Slade, there was a legitimate chance the Alpha might hurt him. The fingers in his jaw already threatened that much but he had no idea how long Slade’s patience would last for before the Alpha went to straight out belt him.

Slade’s eyes burned with unquenched fury and Oliver was aware he’d probably have to go for a gamble here. Rational discussion didn’t seem to be getting through to the Alpha.

The last thing he wanted to do was call Slade crazy either, because Oliver too knew all to well what it was like to be haunted by one’s own ghosts.

Was Oliver himself even thinking reasonably right now? How much wine had he had to drink? He had better hope it wasn’t too much however; otherwise this really would be a stupid idea.

Oliver swallows, realizing how close their faces were together. Had Slade not been looking at him like a bull ready to ram down a matador, Oliver might have almost thought it intimate.

“Is our Bond not stronger than the ghosts that plague you?”

Oliver is almost certain he’s about to made to eat his words but Slade remains staring at him. A look of confusion—was it?—seemed to cross his face and the Alpha shifted his head slightly as if he was looking at him on a strange angle. The fingers around his jaw seemed to loosen as well.

As Oliver’s left arm was now free, he quickly jolts forward, snaking his arm up across the slope of the Alpha’s neck. It must catch the Alpha by surprise as Slade bends to his grasp and with one swift motion Oliver surges his mouth onto Slade’s own.

He can’t quite get up off the floor with the Alpha still on top of him, but pulling Slade down onto him helped make up the difference.

Oliver starts slow, pressing light-hearted pecks to Slade’s lips. He does so quickly, several times in a single moment, but not without being concise. There’s no demand in the motion, nothing that would hopefully spook the Alpha away, but when Slade leans forward into his next kiss, he can tell there’s fear.

There’s fear in their kisses. There’s the fear of being lost, losing one another.

Slade didn’t have as much facial hair on his chin this time around, so there was less almost-scraping and pricking of stubble against one another’s faces and more raw emotion in their kisses.

The Alpha retracts his hand from out between them, releasing Oliver’s chin. The other comes away from the Omega’s wrist as well as Slade shifts his weight off Oliver’s lower body, still holding their closed-mouth kiss.

They linger on that kiss for the longest, Slade repositioning his body so that he’s no longer putting pressure on the man beneath him and Oliver forces Slade to keep his head down towards him at the neck. For Slade to pull back, he’d have to do so forcefully but the Alpha instead settles his hands over the hem of Oliver’s shirt. Attentively and without any force to the motion.

Oliver didn’t even realize he’d closed his eyes, opening them as the Alpha touches his toned stomach. He makes an exasperated sound, not quite a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’ as their lips break apart.

Oliver immediately notices the difference in Slade’s eyes. The fire was gone—the madness—replaced by something colder. Not sure of Slade’s thought process, Oliver refrains from sudden moments, leaving his hand stroking the collar of the Alpha’s shirt.

He couldn’t help licking his lips though.

The Alpha tasted the way he smelt, like something dark and strong—divine.

Oliver huffs, not denying Slade further ‘things’.

Slade pulls Oliver into a closer grasp from his sitting position, half-heaving the Omega up as Oliver flops onto him with little grace. Oliver’s hand falls away from Slade’s neck as he lands awkwardly pressed again the Alpha’s chest but both of Slade’s arms snake around him.

Holding back a sound of shock, Oliver is further perplexed as Slade pulls him into a hug. One of the Alpha’s arms went around his side and the other across his shoulders.

Oliver’s legs were bent at the knees, half-sitting between Slade’s legs but with the arm he had not trapped by Slade, he went to pat the Alpha’s back. Comforting him in the way he probably would have, had Slade initially not put him on the floor.

Slade makes a choked, sobbing sound and there’s no hiding it despite how quiet it was, how much the Alpha may have tried to conceal it, their heads sat in the crook of each other’s neck.

Going to pull back out of Slade’s embrace, the Alpha’s grasp remains almost bone-crushingly tight around Oliver.

“I’m sorry, kid,” Slade says, voice solemn.

“It’s okay. I’m fine,” Oliver assures, stretching his fingers out as far as possible to rub the Alpha’s back.

Which turned out to not be very far at all, Oliver’s fingertips lingering over the small of Slade’s back. It wasn’t a very ceremonious position nor one that allowed Oliver a lot of movement but he tried to comfort the Alpha the best he could all the same.

“No…”

Slade makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat. The sound dies quickly.

Slade still wasn’t allowing him to pull away from him but Oliver could feel the wetness on his cheek, below his ears. The tears certainly weren’t his either and Oliver’s heart sunk in his chest.

“Shh, it’s okay we don’t have to talk about it,” Oliver tries to sooth.

He never was very good at comforting people, not even Laurel when they were going out. It was especially hard to comfort another male however, as Oliver knew damn well they weren’t always very open about their feelings.

He hoped he was doing the right thing by Slade though.

“But… I still haven’t…”

Slade goes to say something but there’s no strength left in his voice to finish.

Oliver could feel Slade’s whole body sagging onto him. Like the Alpha’s whole world was falling apart and he just couldn’t take it anymore.

“I don’t care about that right now,” Oliver says adamantly but softly.

Whatever Slade thought he needed to say, could wait. Especially if it was pertaining to Slade’s tale of what happened in those years they were apart from one another.

Slade wasn’t going to be allowed to talk about his ghost either. The real Oliver would keep it at bay. Like he should have done in the beginning, been there for Slade, not just presumed the Alpha was dead. Because like himself too, the Alpha was out there in the world, suffering on his own.

Oliver makes a squeak-like sound of shock as Slade tightens his arms around him, an iron prison. It was almost painful, his chest pressing against the Alpha’s own from the pressure across his back. He could feel Slade’s heartbeat, fast and erratic like he’d just run a marathon and his heart was threatening to burst out of his chest.

“You should,” Slade says low, voice full of self-loathing.

“I could have just killed you right now. And I might not have known any better until _you were dead_.”

Slade’s voice comes out harsh, like it was grating against his throat. The spasms that shook Slade’s body every several seconds were painstakingly obvious to Oliver but the Omega also knew the Alpha didn’t want to be seen as weak. Vulnerable.

The position he was holding Oliver in didn’t allow him to twist his neck around to look at the Alpha, head kept above one of Slade’s tense shoulders. But Oliver knew that even if he could turn around, he wouldn’t.

He’d give Slade the privacy he no doubt desired, though Oliver didn’t feel comfortable entirely leaving him alone at the moment either.

“But you didn’t,” Oliver tries to sooth, brushing his hand over Slade’s back.

“But I could have!”

Oliver swallows around a lump in his throat. He couldn’t disagree with the Alpha’s logic there but he also didn’t want to agree with it. The solution obviously wasn’t for Slade to go on suffering, enduring this hell on his own. Trying and failing to ward off his own ghosts that obviously haunted and traumatised him.

“But do you… Do you think pushing me away will make either of us feel better?”

The Omega was clearly pushing Slade here. Pushing Slade and himself beyond the usual limits of where their conversations would go. Prying for feelings it seemed neither of them knew how to properly interpret or talk to one another about. Right now, Oliver felt those emotions as well—the same confusion—but he didn’t want to walk away from them. He didn’t want to ignore them anymore.

It was strange and frightening, whatever they felt for each other, but it was also wonderful all the same. Emotional…

He didn’t want Slade to slap those feelings of his in the face either. As there was always the chance that they were one-sided and Slade did not share them with him.

But he was prepared to get hurt. He was prepared to endure some suffering on Slade’s behalf if it meant the Alpha no longer had to suffer in silence.

Being a male was _hard_ … more so as an Omega. Being expected to be strong all the time was hard, it was impossible.

“’Don’t want your fuckin’ pity,” Slade spits, but there’s an audible seize in his voice.

Slade sounded like a very quite crier but Oliver had a feeling that the Alpha was also trying hard to hold back the dam of tears as well.

“It’s not pity,” Oliver says sternly, shaking his head against the Alpha’s neck.

“It’s empathy. I don’t know exactly what you’ve gone through or what you’re going through right now, but I can relate to it.”

Slade doesn’t immediately respond, instead makes a noise Oliver doesn’t know how to decipher. Was that a sound of pain?

The Omega quickly is aware of the wriggle room Slade has given him in his arms though, relaxing his arms around Oliver into a comfortable embrace. Still not anything Oliver could really entangle himself from though.

Not that Oliver wanted to, for either of their sakes.

“You shouldn’t be made to pay for my madness, kid.”

From Slade’s voice it sounded like he was admitted defeat.

“No. But I could be made to pay for my negligence though. I could have gone back for you. But like you, I didn’t want to find a body.”

Oliver’s breathing hitches just thinking about it. How he’d left his friend for ‘dead’ because he couldn’t bear to face the truth of what he’d done. But now he was being made to.

He and Slade were both atoning for their ‘sins’, in one way or another.

Slade’s entire body seems to loosen at the Omega’s words. Even though that meant Oliver was practically half-supporting them now to keep from falling over.

Yet Oliver took that as a good sign, continuing to stroke the Alpha’s back with his one free hand.

He’d finally gotten through to Slade.

“You can tell me… the rest of it later, if you want to. I’m not going anywhere.”

_Never again._

Oliver didn’t want to have to leave anyone behind ever again.

“I’ll call Diggle and Felicity; tell them I’m staying with you tonight. I can make something up.”

Slade doesn’t seem to protest as Oliver continues half-holding him for a while.

xxxxxxxx

_But what if it was already gone, given to someone else to hold?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Ollie or Poor Slade?
> 
> It feels kind of strange to have Author Notes to the end of a chapter like this, but I felt like there were a few things covered in the chapter I wanted to semi-elaborate on.
> 
> Firstly, I know Lian Yu is in the North China Sea in canon but there is no North China Sea! There’s an East and a South Sea, but no North. Fiction takes liberties creating entire cities in finite spares (ie. Starling City) but I can’t justify the creation of an entire sea here. Northwest of the East China Sea would be in China. North and East are closer on a compass so I moved Lian Yu to the East China Sea. This ties in with my second point.
> 
> The rest of Slade’s backstory (I) still hasn’t been elaborated on yet, but I never liked Slade supposedly ‘swimming’ off the island. I did some world record research though and open-water, unassisted swims of upwards of 100 kilometres and 40 hours have been achieved. We can’t really get a gauge of how far Slade swam to get off a fictional island to a real one (Okinawa) but seeing those world records made it a bit more believable for me to write.


	5. The Truth Will Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took _way_ too long for me to write and update. See end notes, but I do apologize for the long wait.

It is dead quiet for the seemingly longest period between them.

Far too long a time in which Oliver spends the entirety of it ruffling the hemline of Slade’s shirt, scratching one-handed patterns into the Alpha’s back, and letting his uneven breathing whisper down Slade’s hairline.

All the while allowing fears he’d thought to have long since buried uproot themselves in his mind.

Slade is practically flimsy in his half-embrace, fingers on either side of Oliver kneading into the skin of his right shoulder blade and left hip sharply.

The gesture was somewhat painful, the Alpha clinging into the skin of his body as if for dear life. Slade continually ghosts over the almost bite-like mark on Oliver’s left hip that he himself had inflicted, mentally reminding the Omega yet again what led them to this point.

 _How am I supposed to fix this?_ How was he supposed to fix any of this?!

He could have fixed this, a long time ago… maybe, back on Lian Yu. All he had to do was go back for Slade’s seemingly dead body on the Amazo—where Oliver reasonably thought it would have been left to rot. This wasn’t a proven or a given, things may have truly been doomed between them from the start, yet Oliver still felt bad regardless.

To know that he had further condemned Slade though to a fate worse than death—allowed the Alpha to slowly descend into madness by simply not being there and offering his presence when Slade appeared to have needed him most—... it hurts Oliver just as much as it did the first time when he lost the Alpha.

Only this time, the Omega doesn't cry. This time, Oliver didn’t lose Slade, but is forced to realize he may have destroyed and irrevocably damaged what was left of the man.

 _I should say something_ , Oliver wills himself, but only lets out a heavy exhale that trickles down Slade's neck.

A breath seizes in Slade’s throat, Oliver fretting as to what he’s done now.

Oliver doesn’t get a chance to further lament, as the fog-like silence and darkness that had settled over them shatters, as Slade among them is the first to pull away.

“Guess I ruined our date, huh?” Slade rasps in between letting out a cough or an exhale, one of the two.

The Alpha says it like a joke, however Slade retracting from around Oliver—one arm still around Oliver’s shoulders, his right arm instantly going to swipe across his face—betrays the lack of humour in it.

The Alpha gives him an absent-minded stare, roughly raking a sleeve over one bloodshot eye.

Watching Slade, Oliver notices how dark it seemed to have suddenly gotten in the room and the tone of Slade’s skin disguised that he’d been crying well.

“I’m not worried about that, I’m more concerned about you right now,” Oliver forces himself to say, keeping his voice from breaking.

In front of him, Slade pulls his bottom lip between his teeth sharply, gnawing at it like he was holding back a venomous comment. He could see it in Slade’s eyes—the wide-eyed desperation to just want to disappear—even as the Alpha’s eyes slide away from him and across the room to gaze at the city outside.

It’s the same look Oliver’s found in his reflection for the last seven years.

There was no comfort even between the close proximity of their bodies; one arm of Slade’s still circling the nape of his neck, Oliver’s hands fidgeting awkwardly in his lap.

“You’re really okay with this?” Slade asks, avoiding his gaze.

Slade had no idea how Oliver could be okay with any of this. He was a fucking psycho, and had just only further established for the both of them, that intentional or not, he could still very well end up being the death of Oliver.

Kid was damn delusional, not immediately walking out on him right now.

The Alpha shakes his head, not knowing what to make of it. He couldn’t bare to have Oliver get hurt because of him.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Oliver poses the rhetorical question back.

A shudder goes through Slade’s frame and Oliver feels it more than he sees it, a brief shaking just below his neck.

The man’s scent wasn’t giving the Omega much to go off, the strained and more seemingly absent, musky smell of it that dominated and could smother a small room. Oliver wishes he wasn’t so averse to scenting and actually gave himself a chance to breathe every now and then, _off_ the Beta cologne and suppressants.

_This doesn’t change anything between us._

Except it did. It made things all the more difficult, another obstacle and wedge in their already strained relationship they’d only just begun to mend weeks ago.

Whatever Slade did—and Oliver is aware he isn’t knowledgeable on the whole affair, the Alpha had admitted it but mere minutes ago—he did under the influence of madness and trauma. He wasn’t in his right mind or sentient. That’s not a fact Oliver needs reminding of, as it still coloured their experiences right now.

“I dunno…” Slade hesitates, only meeting Oliver’s eyes for a moment, “I have hallucinations about a warped version of you tormenting me and I-I—”

Clasping one hand over the Alpha’s shoulder, likely more firmly than needed, gravitating Slade towards him, Oliver speaks the first thing that comes to mind.

“And I’m sorry you do… but I don’t blame you for that. Not for anything.”

Keeping his palm steadying Slade’s chest, Oliver _waits_.

Slade’s whole body tenses under his hand, like he doesn’t believe him and the Alpha’s voice turns hard and grating, pulling his arm away from the Omega.

“You know the only reason I’m here in Starling City right now is because I intended to ki—"

Slade instantly drops silent, not even trailing off in his sentence as if shocked by his own words.

There’s no way Oliver could have missed that though, sure his face must display his expression instantly dropping just as Slade’s own did.

Slade was going to kill him.

Slade _could_ have killed him, Oliver corrects himself. _He didn’t, and he won’t._

That’s not what bothers Oliver though, makes his skin utterly crawl. It’s the fact that Slade could have indeed done that—killed him in some delusionary state—and it wouldn’t have granted Slade any respite.

But Oliver doesn’t persist on that train of thought for too long, knowing Slade needed the diversion away from it more than he did.

“Yes, but if you never came here in the first place, you’d still just be mindlessly suffering then, right?” Oliver asks.

Appearing as if he is mulling it over, Slade takes a moment before responding.

“Maybe…” Slade starts before continuing with a harder, less forgiving tone, “but by the same token how is the better alternative me coming and terrorizing you? It wasn’t by coincidence I came here in the first place and it certainly wasn’t with the intention to play make up.”

Slade’s voice rose as he spoke, resentment filling his voice, as he wrenched back in Oliver’s hold and the Omega promptly released him.

Dropping backwards slightly on his palms, Slade shifts away from Oliver marginally with little grace so that they are no longer right up in each other’s guards before letting out a snort.

“It isn’t, but I also don’t blame you for any of it,” Oliver assures, not sure what else to say.

Letting out a deep breath, Oliver contemplates how to best explain it.

“It’s the fault of shitty circumstance that neither of us could fully control that things ended up… the way they have. I never wanted any of this to happen the way it did, and I’m sorry I hurt you and that it’s taken us this long to work things out. But I’m not sorry that you’re here though, and it would seem as a result of it, you’ve gained some clarity.”

Offering Slade a sad smile, Oliver hopes the Alpha realizes he didn’t think it was bad that they were both here now.

Moving a steady hand out between them in an attempt to console the Alpha, Oliver is half-stunned when Slade pulls farther away from him and climbs to his feet.

Staggering to his feet, Slade lets out a snarl even as Oliver clambers off his knees after him.

“ _Clarity?_ What the hell, kid?” Slade snaps.

“Just because I gain some clarity and come to the conclusion that you might not be some fucked up thing constantly harassing me, does not—in any way—justify all the shitty things I’ve done to get to that conclusion.”

Slade seeths, fingers digging into his palms, tension radiating off his body as he gravitates away from Oliver.

Oliver almost flinches at how much Slade seemed to want to argue the point.He hated that Slade seemed to actually believe what he was saying, that he deserved to suffer and that Oliver _shouldn’t_ pay him any care. The Omega supposes he could admit Slade was mad in that sense, thinking that he wouldn’t care.

“Yes…” Oliver starts with.

“But what about the shitty things _I did_ to involuntarily push you down that path? You seem to be forgetting that?”

Taking a small step across the room as he speaks, Oliver just wanted to reach out and touch Slade, shake some sense into him, and trust that his Omega scent would maybe do the rest. Pacifying Slade and letting him know what Oliver was saying was indeed how he truly felt.

Oliver didn’t know if that could be picked by smell, or if any emotions could be gauged through the muting chemicals he usually wore.

Still, the Omega found himself slowly tracking over to Slade, keeping his arms low and immobile by his side to show he meant the older man no harm, even as the Alpha growls and snaps a retort at him.

“You can’t just try and relegate something like that. Taking the blame for all those people I murdered.”

Slade’s entire body remains still, even as he bares his teeth at Oliver, and takes a step backwards.

Like a cold splash of water to his system, hearing it aloud half-shocks Oliver. Though the knowledge was nothing new to him it still ate away at him that every time he and Slade got onto talking about the past. It always seemed to be about the negatives in their lives, never the positives.

This was not the response Oliver was hoping for nor expecting, yet he manages to steady his emotions from flying all over the place. There was no way Oliver believed Slade genuinely wanted him to push him away. He was just scared.

_Just scared, that’s all._

Practically crawling over to Slade at a snail’s pace, Oliver is unsurprised when the Alpha backpedals away from him, pulling his hand away from Oliver’s own. The look on Slade’s face promptly transforms from fire and ire, to one of anxiety, the Alpha’s jaw locking up, and his eyes going wide.

Oliver is unrelenting in his slow pursuit though, watching as Slade’s body and expressions contorted uncharastically into almost fear.

Not drawing himself to his full taller height, knees bent so as to remain directly eye level with the Alpha, Oliver waits for Slade inevitably to back into the wall, before saying anything.

“Maybe not,” Oliver attempts to sooth softly, “but I can take responsibility for killing you. Twice.”

As Oliver pauses in front of Slade barely inches between them, he weaves his right hand into Slade’s own whilst keeping the Alpha’s eyes directly on his own. The Alpha’s palm was clammy with sweat but Slade doesn’t do anything besides shoot Oliver a half-hearted glare, allowing their hands to intertwine by Slade’s side.

Oliver is sure the Alpha could break every bone in his hand if he decided to clamp down on it right now, but relievingly Slade’s hand remained only semi-firm.

 _Responsibility_ , Slade questioned himself even as Oliver almost hypnotised him from looking away. The way Oliver said it— _he_ could take responsibility for killing _him_ —, it was like Slade didn’t get a say in it.

Oliver looks at him sombre, keeping his mouth to a thin, straight line, brows low over his stormy eyes. Slade feels his throat scorch with dryness as the Omega invades his space, a weight against his chest even as the Omega’s neck remains reclined, gaze utterly entrapping him and preventing him from looking away. The hand within his own is reassuring but not at all grounding.

Those eyes… The Omega had eyes deep and dark like the sea, ones that would drag him under, pull him into the current, drowning him...

Slamming as far back as physically possible into the wall behind him, Slade immediately notices the flicker of concern in Oliver’s eyes, Omega pulling away from him momentarily and lips quivering downwards. He hadn’t noticed it before but Oliver’s chest is lightly pressed against his own, Oliver’s left arm settled on his shoulder, and their legs likely in an awkward snare that Slade couldn’t see.

 _This is Oliver_ , Slade has to mentally tell himself several times as the Omega continues to gaze at him.

_Just Oliver… nothing fucked about it._

Oliver’s scent, up this close, tickled and clung to the inside of his nose like pollen and Slade knew there was no deceit in it beyond the Beta chemicals ensnared in the Omega’s natural own.

 _Damn, Omega._ What had Slade done to ever warrant Oliver acting like this?

Slade bites down on a growl growing in his vocal cords, refocusing on Oliver.

“My choice. My choice to protect you,” Slade denies.

 _Yes…_ His choice, his choice to protect Oliver back then. His choice to protect Oliver now by pushing him away. Slade can feel his palms grow sweaty, especially with one of Oliver’s locked into his own.

_Please go, I will hurt you._

Merely squeezing a hand over Slade’s tight shoulder, Oliver barely seems visibly deflected at all by Slade’s statement.

“It was my choice to stab you in the head when I didn’t necessarily have to,” Oliver replies calmly.

“ _You were scared!_ You were well within your right to want to hurt me.”

Slade can feel his chest practically vibrate, heart pounding behind his ribcage with a combination of vehement fear and agitation. His mind felt like a goddamn trainwreck and he just wanted to sink into the wall behind him. None of that was possible without getting past Oliver though and he knew the Omega wasn’t one for mercy— _no, stop it, stop it._

The Alpha’s eyes dart away from Oliver before he realises the Omega has started speaking again, needing to remind himself where he was.

_Not on the island, not on the island, Starling City..._

“So were you. You said it yourself, you thought you’d killed me.”

“And you vice-versa,” Slade forces out, insistently looking around the room and over Oliver’s shoulders.

Anywhere but in those eyes.

“I’m not the one who got left behind on the island though,” Oliver murmurs.

Slade sighs, and can’t help himself in turning to meet the Omega’s eyes again. The unfurling of fingers in his clammy hand and the stroking of blunt fingernails by his throat diverting his attention back onto the younger man. They were going in circles again, unsurprisingly.

Sliding his attention back over to Oliver, Slade is perplexed by the lack of any judgement or disgust in the Omega’s eyes. There was the thinnest semblance of a smile to Oliver’s face, but other than that, Slade could only find concern and warmth in the Omega’s expressions and closeness.

What had happened to that stupid kid who’d stumbled upon his plane on Lian Yu? The one who cried and whinged all the time?

“What are you saying, kid?” Slade yields, feeling he needed to say something but not at all sure what.

“What I’m saying is…” Oliver quickly starts before looking unsure of himself, doubt creeping into his eyes for a moment before it is instantly gone.

“I don’t blame you for anything that’s happened. If the Mirakuru hadn’t saved you when it did, Shado, Sara, and I would have likely all ended up dead. If you hadn’t saved me when Ivo captured me, again, I’d probably be dead. You’ve saved my hide more times than I can count, and almost every time, if you hadn’t, I’d be dead, or worse.

You’ve done a lot of good by me, and I haven’t forgotten that. If you’d attempted to mark and Bond me early on, I would have been a lot easier to mask and conceal. But you never did anything, never touched me, never took advantage of me.”

Slade grumbles with a roll of his eyes, contemplating the Omega's words.

“I fucked you last time you were here," Slade quips, bluntly.

Oliver allows a smile to blossom on his face, tilting his head to one side and squeezing his hand in Slade's.

“I was antagonising you somewhat, trying to get you to do that," Oliver admits.

Though it seemed to Slade to obviously be without shame as an almost coy-like smirk could be glimpsed on Oliver's features.

“You manipulated my feelings. I was coerced.”

Kid was cunning as a shithouse rat beneath that vixen-like appearance.

The Omega muffles letting out a brief laugh, and continues staring at Slade with that same madingley entrapping gaze.

Slade swallows.

There was a kind of softness, and dare Slade say beauty, in Oliver's features that couldn't be gauged beneath shaggy locks and a scraggly beard. It's mindboggling and Slade doesn't know why he hasn't noticed it as much up until this point.

He could probably reach out and touch the Omega's face right now and the Omega would allow it, Oliver's body already pressed tightly up against his own.

Looking at Oliver leaves him with an odd haze of warmth beneath his skin.

“We wouldn’t have Bonded if either of our feelings were just one-sided," Oliver teases, breath hot over Slade's throat.

It's increasingly distracting for Slade—the lack of distance between them—, along with that sweet, powdery vanilla scent of Oliver's seemingly growing more potent by the minute. Slade doesn't even manage to let out anything intelligent to the Omega's argument other than a low, irritable growl.

"I think you’re just mad, because I actually got the better of you on something.”

“Got the better of me?" Slade blinks, actually managing to find some substance in Oliver's words to keep his conscious thoughts from slipping away from him.

"Saying us—being here right now—is a result of you dropping your pants in front of me at an inopportune moment doesn’t exactly have a good ring to it. That what you told your friends about us?”

Slade snarks about it, but really any moment of the Omega willingly dropping his dacks in front of him wasn't unwelcome. Except when it actually happens, and the Alpha doesn't know what to do about it.

Like right now, when the Omega was draping himself over Slade's chest and shoulder like a cat stretched out on a rug. All Slade could think to do was squeeze his hand into the Omega's own, unsure what sort of response Oliver was trying to gauge from him.

“I’ll admit it might not have been the smartest idea, but you pulled me off the streets knowing full well I was going into heat," Oliver affirms, with a light smile.

A switch seems to flip in Slade's head at the way Oliver could speak about their undoubtedly lesser moments in life. Not with distaste or begrudging acceptance, but instead humour?

Oliver’s tone of voice is nothing but light and seems to speak only of warmth, corresponding with the soft yet calloused hands dancing over Slade's body.

Pulling his hand out from Oliver's own, Slade jerks his arms around the Omega, forcing them both ever closer into each other's space. Oliver lets out a small squeak-like sound pulled into Slade, pressed into the Alpha's chest by the arms snared around his back, palms settled onto his waist and thigh.

A growl rises in Oliver's throat, both of their faces so close their noses could almost brush, and the Alpha somehow with an unreadable mask on his face.

But Slade’s expression finally beams into a smile, Oliver surprised by it when the hands on his body turn into nails tugging into his clothes and fingers stroking over his body.

“True," Slade grins, words rolling off his tongue with a growl, "Guess I just can’t keep myself away from you, now can I?”

Fingers dug firmly though not jarringly into Oliver’s sides, Slade gives Oliver a look of dark intent—all half-lidded eyes and toothy smile—as he runs a hand along the inside of Oliver’s thigh, pressing the Omega’s leg outwards without even having to divert his eyes from Oliver’s.

Before swiftly dragging his hand back up Oliver’s clothed leg.

Slade laughs throatily at the stark look on Oliver’s face, the Omega then letting out a low whistle of air after a moment of silence between them.

Oliver drops his head onto the hand he’s had resting on the slope of Slade’s neck, burying his nose into the Alpha’s throat. Slade raises a brow at the Omega skirting past him and flopping down on his shoulder, but otherwise says nothing.

The feeling of comfort from Oliver was entirely foreign but not unwanted, as Slade relishes smoothing his palms over the scarred flesh of Oliver’s he could feel even through fabric. Waiting for the Omega to inevitably pull himself back away from him.

Shifting slightly on top of him, Oliver’s nose brushes against Slade’s throat.

“Even if you say you initially came to Starling City with the intention of hurting me, I’m still glad we’re here now,” Oliver muses.

The Omega doesn’t make a move to get off of Slade, and Slade screws up his face, only just able to peer at Oliver out of the corner of his sight.

“There’s some other things… things you should know,” Slade huffs, knowing it had to be said.

“Is it urgent, because I think both of us could use some small talk right about now?”

Pulling himself off Slade’s shoulder, Oliver gives Slade a smile, keeping his palm firm over the Alpha’s shoulder as Slade held him at an arm’s length.

“No, it can wait,” Slade affirms, after a brief moment passes.

“It is all important though, albeit not easy to tell.”

Looking Slade dead in the eyes, Oliver speaks firmly even as he caresses his fingers over the collar of Slade’s shirt.

“Well, I’m not panicking about it.”

Slade raises a brow, like he’s not sure if he believes Oliver, before removing a hand off Oliver’s hip.

Which immediately comes up to cup the stubble of Oliver’s chin.

“We good, kid?”

Oliver leans his cheek into Slade’s hand, bringing his free hand up to rest over Slade’s own.

“Yeah, always.”

A tongue flicks out over the Omega’s lips, he had a feeling he knew what was coming.

Slade surprises him with his next question.

“So this— _us_ —means more to you than just some Bond?”

There’s no snipping or quips about it, Slade was asking him honestly and openly. Forcing them both to look at each other directly in the eye. Dark brown meets deep blue, and Oliver swallows around a lump in his throat, breath ghosting over Slade’s own lips.

“I thought that would have been obvious…

Well… it might not have been. But I’ve cared for far too long, without saying anything. For years. I never wanted to hurt you, or get us killed, and yet I pushed you away. And I ended up doing all of that regardless.”

Oliver screws up his face, comforted when the hands on his body remain where they are, Slade’s thumb stroking over his jawbone.

“I made a mistake…” Slade responds, defeatedly.

“What’s that?”Oliver asks, anxiety creeping into his voice.

“Not fucking you sooner.”

It comes out barely above a whisper, Slade’s voice so unusually soft, yet Oliver hears it clearly. Somehow, the Alpha makes it sound like the most romantic thing in the world.

Oliver’s mouth is on Slade’s instantly, backing the Alpha into the wall.

A mumble of surprise comes from Slade, the Omega’s forehead bumping into him and Oliver’s lips seeking out his own and forcing moist, hot kisses onto him. Any notion of sound between them is quickly drowned out as Slade growls, deep and primal, feet clambouring for stability on the floor. Their eyes meet, Oliver coursing his lips over the prickle of stubble and the closed edges of Slade’s mouth, crushing his pelvis and chest into the front of Slade.

Pulling the Omega back from him with a yank on the hip, Slade presses his mouth back onto Oliver’s. The Omega lets out a whine, lips parting as warm, throaty gasps and salvia pass between their mouths.

Every connection of their lips was partially sensual yet mostly demanding, hungry and fierce, as their bodies melded together over-and-over seamlessly.

Slade closes his eyes, forcing the Omega beneath him to stay there and maintain their height difference. The hand he has on Oliver’s hip coils into his skin and the loop of his belt hole, enticing a shuddery moan from the Omega. As the noise leaves Oliver, Slade's tongue invaded his mouth. Forcing Oliver’s teeth and lips apart, Slade presses his tongue into the moistness of the Omega’s mouth and Oliver sparks back.

Their lips suck and dance over one another, as Oliver forces his tongue back into the Alpha’s own, swiping their skin over one another and attempting to push himself back into Slade’s mouth all the more quickly.

Slade’s hand not forcing and tugging Oliver downwards finds its way to the younger man’s ass.

A particularly body wracking gasp passes from Oliver’s mouth at the fingers dug into his cheek, but it is silenced by a grunt from Slade before their battle of dominance continued.

Oliver pulls at Slade’s dress shirt, fingering for the buttons that slip between his shaky digits, not just wanting to taste the Alpha but also wholeheartedly smell him. He wanted that musky, earthy sandalwood scent enveloping and smothering his body like the Alpha’s arms would, and he wanted it now.

Snarling into the Alpha’s mouth and nipping his tongue briefly, Oliver gives up when even the top button won’t give way beneath his fingertips, the constant swaying and crushing of his and Slade’s body coming together, throwing his coordination off.

Oliver claws his hands over the Alpha’s shoulders and chest, wanting the Alpha to know he was furious even as no sound left him, Slade nipping back at his mouth and introducing teeth into the matter. He couldn’t touch the Alpha’s bare skin and the man was so tight in the shoulders, just begging to have Oliver’s hands careening over them.

A finger presses down the slope of the Omega’s ass, Oliver making a muffled noise as Slade maneuvers a pinkie—not squeezing his as—in-between Oliver’s thighs. Oliver spasms, jerking his hips and dick forward into Slade’s body at the contact brushing over his hole.

Slade gives off a rumbl _e,_ nipping teeth over Oliver’s top lip, and forces his dick back into Oliver’s own.

Their pelvises crush together, cocks not quite hard, but getting there, Slade holding Oliver by the hip and ass so the Omega wouldn’t go backwards.

The motion of it sends the Omega completing weak in the knees as he crumples onto the front of Slade, making mumbling noises whilst still trying to hold Slade’s kiss.

There’s no way Slade wasn’t fully hard. There was just no way. The Alpha’s dick had been so firm and unyielding against his body, practically demanding Oliver’s submission. Oliver had no idea how such a thing could have slotted into his body but he wouldn’t mind finding out and testing it again.

_Alphas have scientifically proven bigger dicks, now that’s a fact! And you Queen, your Omega ass was designed so Alphas could fuck it._

Slade snickers between leaving a nip on the side of Oliver’s mouth and fully pulling away, tongue sliding free from the Omega’s mouth.

Oliver pants, taking in more air than he seemed to be able to in the past few moments, steadying himself on his feet even as Slade remained righting his body.

The Alpha grins all teeth after catching his breath, rubbing his palm over Oliver’s ass.

“You’re weak as piss, kid,” Slade quips, “No stamina.”

Oliver fixes Slade with a stare, darting a tongue over where the remnants of warmth from the Alpha was around his mouth.

“You must have left that out when you were training me, then.”

Slade chuckles, moving his face in closer to Oliver’s.

A vibration goes off near them somewhere, Oliver realising he must have closed his eyes in anticipation when he snaps them open to Slade’s own, mere centimetres away from him.

The Omega palms a hand over his phone, movement coming off of it in his pocket. He lets out a sigh, his phone was ringing, why now!

“It doesn’t matter,” Oliver affirms, meeting Slade’s eyes.

There’s concern in the Alpha’s gaze, having replaced the demand and lust there momentarily ago.

Slade weaves his hand into Oliver’s front pocket though, prying out the Omega’s phone even as the younger man exclaims at what he was doing. Flipping the mobile over, Slade forces it into Oliver’s hand, even as their bodies remain close, embraces clinging into one another.

“I think you better answer it before I get accused of abducting you again,” Slade says, firmly.

Oliver grumbles, the interruption dampening his arousal and desire for intimacy. Way to kill the mood...

It could have been his mother or Thea, wondering where he was—as per usual. Looking down at his phone, Oliver sees no, it was Felicity.

And he said not to bother him tonight, telling Diggle and Felicity he’d be going out with Slade tonight.

Oliver draws in a deep breath, preparing himself for the worst. Before answering his phone on loudspeaker, hoping that would satisfy the Alpha’s insistence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy to finally update this! Apologizes to all my readers and people who have stuck with me for so long. 
> 
> I’ve been snowballed under with studying and working the past couple months, had some unpleasant things happen in real life, but none of that is an excuse for neglecting to update _in forever_. I should be free up of studying this month or the next though and then have more time to write, and get back to a regular updating schedule.
> 
> Feel free to come bug me or chat on Tumblr @sladiver.
> 
> Next Chapter: Slade meets Diggle and Felicity.


	6. Damage Control I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another update that took _far_ too long to churn out. However, this time there are five chapters! I wrote another ‘set’ of chapters like the _Revelations_ three-parter.
> 
> There’s a bit to cover over five chapters, but hopefully you enjoy the content. I’ll be uploading them all shortly.  
>   
> Also, pre-warning: with the increase in Slade’s appearances, the increase in Australian slang and general vulgarity has gone up.

Oliver sighs as he answers his phone.

His chest was still hard-pressed against Slade’s own, his dick by no means flaccid. He was trying as hard as he could to glare daggers at Slade whilst also not letting anger slip into his voice. This was in no way helped by the slightest movement done by the Alpha causing the man’s cock to jut into his thigh.

Gritting his teeth, Oliver just wanted Slade to continually stoke the fires within him until they simmerred back down to a content ember.

Somehow Oliver manages to form intelligible speech.

“Felicity…,” Oliver strains.

No doubt the Beta had her own mobile on loudspeaker, Dig likely able to hear him as well.

“Just relax, kid,” Slade mouths more than he says the words.

Slade runs a hand over scar tissue and toned muscle of Oliver’s side.

“Where are you?” Felicity asks, a hint of both demand and urgency in her voice.

The previous expression Slade had of contentment is quickly replaced by raised brows and a curling upwards of his lips. With the hand Oliver still has on Slade’s shoulder, he feels the Alpha grow stiff beneath his touch.

“Slade and I are out.”

“When are you coming back?”

Leaning in close to Oliver’s ear, the Alpha lightly growls.

“Truth kid,” Slade says, grazing teeth over the top of Oliver’s earlobe.

Mulling it over, Oliver has to think for a moment, knowing that saying he intended to stay the night at Slade’s would only spark cause for debate.

“I think I’ll be staying out with Slade.”

“John! Talk some sense into Oliver!”

Oliver screws up his face at Felicity using Dig’s first name.

Instantly invading Oliver’s space, Slade hisses up against Oliver’s face. Both of Slade’s hands on either side of the Omega tighten into his clothes.

“What the hell did you say?” Slade rumbles quietly between gritted teeth.

Using his free hand, Oliver forces Slade back into the wall.

The Omega only told his friends what he and Slade agreed on, able to remember the conversation explicitly.

_“I’m seeing someone._

_His name’s Slade, and we met nearly seven years ago on Lian Yu. All you need to know is that Slade trained me, he saved my ass more times than I can count, and never took advantage of me either._

_Slade nearly got killed because of me. It wasn’t instantaneous or anything but it put him on his deathbed. He had a couple days tops._

_You know how I told you about Ivo and the Mirakuru serum? Well, we got to it before Ivo did. Once we…an Alpha by the name of Shado and I found out about it, we made the decision to try and save Slade’s life with it. It appeared to have actually killed Slade at first. Shado and I were then taken hostage by Ivo though…_

_Shado was killed, and I likely would have been too, if the Mirakuru hadn’t saved Slade._

_The thing with the Mirakuru though, is that it doesn’t just affect the body. It warps the mind, influences it. Shado having just died, I don’t think helped Slade’s state. He left… ran off shortly after. But things got worse. Ivo got his hands on me again and Slade went on a rampage, finally killing Ivo when he found out. Slade and I…_

_Things were fine between us aside from Slade unintentionally hurting me… He was rough, didn’t know his own strength. I-I… I hurt him back, badly… even though I didn’t mean it. I thought I’d killed him, and I lived—with that guilt— believing that up until a couple weeks back._

_Slade never understood why I hurt him. That combined with the Mirakuru, I think became the catalyst for Slade coming here to want revenge. When it came down to the wire… I don’t think Slade could hurt me though. It was like part of him knew something wasn’t right. If he’d wanted to, Slade had a perfect opportunity to kill me when he pulled me off the streets, but he didn’t.”_

That was the bulk of what Oliver said, aside from fending off questions from Diggle and Felicity. Oliver thinks he explained it well regardless.

Slade lightly gives Oliver a shake.

“I told them what you said to,” Oliver seethes, pulling himself from his thoughts.

Oliver was careful to hold his phone away from their faces, and in spite of it he didn’t really want to entangle himself from Slade’s grasp. It was so hard to get here—for them to bypass each other’s guards and just be happy in one another’s company—that Oliver would hate for the interruption from his friends to ruin it.

Something like anxiety seems to flash behind Slade’s eyes but before Oliver can think to question it, a muffling sound like wind comes from his phone, reminding him of where he was.

“Sup, Oliver,” Dig greets.

A smile cracks across Oliver’s face at Dig’s tone of voice.

“Hey, Dig.”

“This a bad time?” Dig asks, tentatively.

Oliver hears Felicity groan something on the other end of the phone, probably hoping Dig would have chewed him out immediately.

Meeting Slade’s eyes, Oliver looks for an answer or if the Alpha was going to pressure him to say something.

“No, no. Slade and I were just having dinner.”

Diggle and Slade both seem satisfied with his answer as neither immediately say anything.

“Are you and Slade still…” Dig pauses for a moment, “Together?”

Catching Slade’s gaze, Oliver isn’t sure what to discern from his eyes.

“He’s around,” Oliver responds.

Slade shakes his head and Oliver raises a brow, like what was he supposed to say?

The same muffled, shuffling noise emanates from Oliver’s phone—like Dig and Felicity were also attempting to have their own conversations out of his hearing—and Felicity’s voice then cuts in.

“Well, keep your boyfriend from eavesdropping and keep him on a leash too while you’re at it—”

Said Alpha snarls before him, pulling out from embracing Oliver to try and snatch up his phone. Oliver instinctively takes a step back and Slade all but snaps his phone out of his hands.

“I’ll eavesdrop all I want, girly. And I’ll have you know I was here first—”

Slade’s words are filled with growls and low rumbles, Oliver wrenching his phone away from him immediately.

Nothing but a snarl leaves Oliver as he backs away from Slade. The Alpha releases an equally, if not more so, animalistic sound back at him.

Oliver begins to walk away from him.

Although Oliver does feels a loss, no longer being up against Slade’s body, or having the Alpha’s hands on him, he pushes it to the back of his mind.

Yeah, he was definitely losing that erection now. He thinks he probably started losing it the moment he heard his friends voices.

Flopping down onto the Alpha’s couch, Oliver hears only unintelligible noises and muffling from his phone. Likely Felicity and Dig had just heard nothing but pure nonsense and growls from his side of the line.

“I told you, Dig. This guy is a psycho—”

Felicity’s voice; Oliver noted it sounded like it was coming from a distance.

“Felicity, now’s not the time.”

Oliver would probably have to thank Diggle later.

“You say that every time. Well, when is the time?”

As soon as Oliver notices Slade slinking over to him, he shoots the Alpha a dirty look.

However he’s able to refrain from growling or saying anything as the Alpha settles on the couch next to him, _very_ closely inside his personal space.

Slade doesn’t touch him, but leans in close to his ear so that Dig and Felicity would have a hard time catching anything he was saying.

“I was here first though, known you longer, and saved your ass more times too. I should be allowed to have a say in this conversation,” Slade starts, tone a low whisper.

Hot breath tickles over Oliver’s ear.

“I’m your Alpha too, that’s another fact. You tell your friends that? It’s like you said before, it’s not like either of our feelings were one-sided. Bonds do not just occur because an Alpha knots an Omega during their heat. If that was the case we’d have every wanker running around Bonded at sixteen. Entire Bond or not, I care, you care, oxytocin, all that hormone Bonding bullshit—I am yours, and you are mine.”

Slade trails off with a growl, low and intimidating, up against the side of Oliver’s face.

There’s low whispers and murmuring coming from his phone but it seemed like Dig and Felicity were waiting for Oliver to come to them.

Slade lets out a low, disgruntled noise.

“I don’t want to put you at odds with your friends,” Slade states, loud and clear, “But seeing as that seemed to have already happened… I want to try and help fix this. I’m not nearly as bad as they make me out to be.”

“Thanks, Slade,” Oliver offers Slade a small smile.

Knowing Diggle and Felicity would have been able to hear every word Slade just said then.

The Omega holds his phone out between them, addressing his friends.

“Look, Diggle, Felicity. I know you both mean well, but so does Slade, and I don’t want to sit here and have you all argue. I trust Slade, I’ve elaborated and spoken about our relationship as much as I’m currently comfortable with, and I’m not going to further debate the topic unless Slade’s willing to.”

Slade _tsks_ and shakes his head, seeming to regain some fire and vigour.

“I already told you, I don’t give a rat’s ass what you say about me, kid.”

“Shut up, old man, I care,” Oliver retorts.

One of Diggle or Felicity makes a half-cough sound in the background.

“Over the phone doesn’t seem like the best way to try and discuss this. I think it would be best if we left you two alone for the moment, and you can work out if and what you want to say,” Dig advises.

Felicity clearly disagrees with this idea, groaning and berating Dig just out of earshot, but the Alpha seems to hush her without causing further commotion.

“See, I like him, less nosey than girly,” Slade comments, to which Oliver wants to facepalm.

“Your call what you want to do here, kid.”

Oliver rolls his eyes.

“You’re not helping at all, Slade. Even if I wanted to have us all sit down together to try and explain things, could I trust any of you to be civil?”

“I think that would be the optimal situation,” Dig points out.

“Come down to Verdant, right now!” Felicity urges.

The Alpha snorts next to him.

“Unlikely.”

Resting his head in his hand, Oliver could feel a headache coming on.

When Omegas and Beta females go through menopause they become cranky bitches, right? Can one be twenty-eight and go through menopause? It sure feels like it to Oliver.

Right now, he either  seemed to want Slade all over him or to string the Alpha up. There was no middle ground.

“Quiet, all of you,” Oliver growls.

“I’ll do tomorrow at best, if Slade’s willing. That way I can have some time to myself and work out what I’m going to say. It’s not easy for me to talk about any of this, _ok!_ ”

Something like concern crosses Slade’s face, Alpha leaning in closer to him as if awaiting Oliver’s permission to come any closer.

“Come on, let’s sort this out tomorrow morning. You can trust me to behave around your friends.”

Everyone is quiet, awaiting Oliver’s response.

“Fine,” Oliver concedes, “Around eight at Verdant. None of you better act up though or I’ll walk.”

“Sounds good to me, man,” Dig agrees.

“You better come, Oliver,” Felicity says, a tad of bite in her voice.

“I know,” Oliver huffs.

Albeit the Omega doesn’t know what’s gotten him so flustered, iffy, and strange currently.

“Now, are we done? Okay, bye. See you tomorrow morning,” Oliver abruptly hangs up.

Sliding his phone off to one side of the couch, Oliver realises he’d probably been more cold to his friends than intended. Later he might feel bad about it, but for the moment, he only had eyes for _his_ Alpha.

_I want him._

“I can’t believe you made me answer that,” Oliver berates.

Even whilst wanting to sag in Slade’s general direction and seat his head in the nape of the Alpha’s neck, previous conversation having sapped his energy but increased his irritability.

Slade snorts.

“And you think that if I hadn’t, your friends _wouldn’t_ have been banging down our door?”

Heat pools in Oliver’s stomach at Slade’s response. Shuffling over to the Alpha so that their knees touch, he bares his teeth at Slade.

"They could have shown up here last time, but they didn't,” Oliver retorts.

“Well, I might have also disabled the GPS in your right boot while you slept.”

Oliver snarls, _stupid Alpha_ , and slips off the couch to in between Slade’s spread legs.

Kneeling over, he weaves his hands to Slade’s waistband, making quick work of pulling apart the clasp on his belt. The Omega is careful to avoid brushing his hands over Slade’s cock. There’s a noticeable tent in Slade’s pants—not that Oliver’s paid much attention to it before—, it left Oliver wondering if the man was still hard from before or was really just that impressive flaccid.

Slade’s fingers promptly catch his wrists and Oliver looks at him with horror and agitation.

“Why not?” Oliver growls.

“Why?” Slade states, raising a brow, voice stern, “Because you’re a goddamn light weight, and I should have started you on the white wines, not the reds. ‘Friggin pissed already, kid.”

“I am not pissed.”

Retorting, Oliver attempts to free his hands from Slade’s, but the Alpha’s grip remains rock solid.

“On the way then. You stink like Beta too, it doesn’t help.”

Oliver rolls his eyes.

“I do not, you said I smelt nice before!”

“But you could smell better, like if you went and took a shower and washed all that Beta deodorant off you.”

From the disapproving look on Slade’s face like he was scolding a small child, Oliver knew the Alpha was dead serious.

The Omega couldn’t believe it, it was all fine and dandy with Slade to kiss each other, be all sweet and shit. But apparently anything more than twelve-year-old playground crap was off limits.

But, Oliver was willing to fight Slade, fire still burning bright within him. He’d take a shower, then see if Slade could resist him!

“Fine, I will then.”

Jerking out of Slade’s loosen grasp, Oliver harrumphs his way away from Slade and down the hallway. He’d show him!

If there was one thing Oliver Queen got his way when it came to, it was sexual partners.

“Mind the soap as well,” Slade calls from behind him, “Don’t want you smelling like Alpha either.”

xxxxxxxx

Slade lets out a sigh of relief when he hears running water from the other room. Seeing as Oliver had found the shower easily enough, and would likely occupy himself there for a little while, in the meantime Slade could busy himself with cleaning.

It was strange Slade found—moving to prop up the table he’d sent tumbling into the sofa whilst attempting to attack Oliver—, when he wasn’t accidently destroying things, Slade found himself to be quite the compulsive cleaner.

Picking up the table, Slade found it didn’t appear to be damaged. Maybe a scuff on it from where it fell over, the tablecloth would easily hide that though.

His thoughts drifted from washing up the cutlery back to the Omega.

Slade was mildly concerned by the Omega’s erratic behaviour and the change in his personality, but he could only hope Oliver came out of the bathroom in a better state than he went in. Hopefully some cold water and time away from him would take the edge off Oliver’s lust.

The Alpha grimaces, beginning to fill up the kitchen sink, wondering how long he had before Oliver was done.

There’d been plenty of pheromones in Oliver’s scent, along with irritability to his personality.

 _Horny-ass motherfucker_.

Slade undos the cufflinks on his sleeves, rolling them up.

Running a dishwashing brush over every plate and utensil; Slade was somewhat annoyed that Oliver hardly seemed to want sex during the months they were together on the island for, y’know… when it would have been convenient.

Where as a bit of alcohol, a slight bit of sexual incentive from himself, and the lack of other smells interfering with Oliver’s nose seemed to be all it took now to get the Omega to come onto him.

_What the fuck?!_

He and Oliver had only drank most of a bottle of red together. That shouldn’t have been enough to get anyone intoxicated but Slade had to remind himself the Omega’s alcohol intake was probably close to nothing in recent months.

Still, other than the Alpha not wanting to take advantage of the Omega, none of this would have been an issue if he wasn’t so deathly afraid of snapping the Omega’s neck.

Refocusing his mind on the task at hand, Slade lets the sink out when he realises he’s just had his hands sitting in lukewarm water for God knows how long, losing track of time. At least he’s stacked the plates and cutlery all neatly in the dish rack beside him.

Returning to the sofa, Slade waits.

After a short amount of time, shuffling from the other room alerts Slade from where he’d kicked back on the couch.

Perking up from whatever nature documentary he’d been absent-mindedly watching, Slade has to wonder when Oliver walks out of the bathroom wearing only a folded-up towel around his waist.

The scent of perfumed vanilla is the first thing to reach Slade’s nose. Oliver’s natural scent, clearly the Omega had avoiding his soap. His scent was not too sweet however, there was a distinct tangy undertone to it. It reminded Slade of metal, cold. A warning, the Omega bites, he’s not _too_ nice.

There was still an Alpha quality to the Omega’s scent though, only discernible when close. Underneath any of the Omega’s own sweetness and bitterness, there was a distinct headiness and heaviness. It smelt like musk, salt, sand, dense undergrowth and hot deserts, and it told Slade _mine_.

 _That’s mine, I fought for that_. An approving growl vibrates in the back of Slade’s throat.

_He Bonded your ass, he choose you. He likes you._

Slade couldn’t help that his eyes wandered over the Omega’s physique.

Oliver was still wet, water sluicing down his toned abdomen and cascading down his long neck. Scars crisscrossed and danced across the Omega’s torso but neither of them were particularly distracting or took away from his beauty.

His eyes were a gorgeous light blue that Slade could finally acknowledge when a disfigured, reverent version of the Omega wasn’t wearing them. Clothes usually hid the scars that littered his body and Oliver was lucky none of them leapt onto his face or were particularly visible.

Thinking about the damage and visible pain carved into Oliver’s body helped remind Slade how now was not an appropriate time to get a massive hard on.

_Think bad stuff, think bad stuff. You put more than one of those scars on his body._

Slade manages to shake his unbecoming thoughts from his mind and holds his breath for a moment as the Omega walks over to him.

“Have you calmed down yet?” Slade asks, managing to keep his eyes on Oliver’s face.

“Shut up,” Oliver scoffs, turning his nose up at the Alpha.

The Alpha refrains a chuckle.

Striding in front of the TV, Oliver swats his hand across Slade’s knees lightly.

“Move,” Oliver urges.

Oliver promptly sits up against Slade’s side as the Alpha shuffles his legs over to create space.

“I’ll take that as a yes, then,” Slade remarks, once Oliver’s finished his huffing and sat down.

“And yet you walk out in a towel regardless.”

“It’s not like I brought a change of clothes,” Oliver defends with a shrug.

There’s a harpy eagle on the TV about to swoop down from the treetops and prey upon a monkey, but Slade is hardly paying attention.

Oliver’s back was slightly damp against Slade’s legs. The lack of light in the room didn’t allow Slade to see too well but that towel around Oliver’s waist was dangerously low.

“Well, I might have to put some on you. You’re a worry enough as it is with clothes _on_.”

“Point taken, if it’ll make both of us feel more comfortable. I just hope I wasn’t too cold to Dig and Felicity,” Oliver concedes.

Slade couldn’t see too much of the expression on Oliver’s face and wasn’t sure how to read the Omega’s words.

“I wouldn’t worry about it too much, kid. You’ve got tomorrow to apologise and explain yourself. Work out what you want to say in the morning, I’ll be right there with you. As like I’m some sort of rabid animal, your friends want to check me over to decide whether or not I’m to be terminated,” Slade jokes with a smile, easing a hand onto the Omega’s back.

Scar tissue is the first thing under Slade’s hand. It felt like burn damage, the skin plasticky and uneven. There might have even been Keloid scars there but Slade keeps his hand still when Oliver doesn’t immediately brush him off.

“Come on,” Slade urges nicely, “Let me wash and iron your clothes for the morning, seeing as you’ve never had to do that in your life. I’ll find something for you to wear in the meantime.”

“Ok,” Oliver agrees, returning Slade’s smile and easing up off the couch.

The Omega has to hitch up his towel on one side as it slides down his hip when he gets up, exposing a rather soft and luscious looking thigh.

Slade refrains from staring as he sits up.

 _Yes…_ Best he put some clothes on Oliver _now_.

xxxxxxxx

Slade swiftly dug up some clothes for Oliver from another room.

A long-sleeved sweater, sweatpants, and a pair of jocks that seemingly had all its price tags intact were handed to Oliver. Oliver didn’t question it but was fairly certain if the Alpha wanted to, Slade could have very well leant him brand new sleeping clothes he just had lying around.

It seemed a bit like Alpha possessiveness on Slade’s part, wanting to clothe Oliver in his own scent.

Slade’s scent got him horny and wound-up though, something that the younger man found never specifically happened from the smell of other Omegas or Betas. Not that it overly bothered Oliver _right now_ —a cool shower and refraining from touching himself having dampened his arousal.

He finds himself pulling on the clothes all the same, after Slade’s booted him back into the bathroom to get changed.

He and Slade were roughly the same size in clothing, yet he was taller, a little longer in the limbs. While Slade was broader in the chest and shoulders. It meant the Alpha’s pants hung around his shins and the shirt was a bit big, but otherwise comfortable.

Slade’s scent was settled around Oliver like a warm embrace, hence it probably made it both easier for him and Slade when he walked out of the bathroom. Constant exposure to Slade’s scent so it didn’t gradually get him blindingly turned-on was probably what he needed.

The Alpha takes his worn clothes and dumps them in a washing machine at the end of the hall. Slade turns it on, then showers, leaving the living area after emphasising to Oliver to stay put.

Oliver collapses onto the couch after noticing Slade’s moved his phone to the bench, not wanting to think about his friends for the moment.

He was feeling kind of drained. Going out on patrol every night didn’t seem to have this effect on him.

Irritation simmered in him and it left him feeling exhausted, even if he knew Slade was right in not letting handsy.

The Omega found himself dozing on the lounge, TV turnt off.

Slade returned after Oliver had made himself at home, which caused Oliver to perk up, immediately sitting up off the lounge.

He’d offered to stay the night with Slade but they hadn’t really discussed bedding arrangements.

Would Slade feel uncomfortable if he was nearby, like a bad reminder or something of the no-doubt nightmares he must have? Oliver hadn’t considered that.

_I’ll just offer to sleep on the couch, it’ll save Slade from feeling awkward._

“You tired?” Slade quips, walking over to stand next to the sofa.

Oliver nods.

“You were about ready for a root a half hour ago, you right?”

There’s an element of concern to Slade’s voice but he masks it with a cheeky smile and a snark. Not that Oliver can tell what the sentence was really meant to mean, wrapped up in Australian slang.

The Omega shakes his head, cutting to the point of what he wanted to say.

“I’m fine. Do you want me to just take the couch tonight?”

Slade’s brows furrow and he reaches a hand out to graze Oliver’s.

“No, what the fuck for? If you want to, I want you with me. It’s not like we haven’t slept in the same bed before.”

“True,” Oliver comments aloud.

“Come on, let’s go,” Slade gestures with a flick of his head towards the hallway, pulling Oliver to his feet.

“I think we both want the rest more than we’re willing to admit.”

Slade leads Oliver to the first room on the right of the short hallway, opening the door inwards and turning on a light.

There’s a made-up bed with red, black, velvet sheets in the middle of the room. On either side of it are mahogany bedside tables, the same texture as the bed-frame. Each one had a small lamp on it but Oliver noticed there was a box of tissues on the right.

Oliver knew it was unlikely they were being used for masturbating.

The Alpha seems to shuffle on his feet, releasing his hand on Oliver.

“I only sleep with the two light sheets, are you going to be okay with that?” Slade asks, meeting Oliver’s gaze.

An ache ruins through Oliver at the insecurity that seemed to have been unearthed tonight in Slade. It’d been there for a long time though, and all Oliver could hope to do was ebb those fears away.

He wanted Slade to slap his ass and tell him to get into bed or something.

Offering Slade a light smile, Oliver moves into the room and to the left side of the bed, folding back the covers.

“I should be fine sleeping next to you.”

Slade and Oliver both get into bed, sitting upright. The TV is turned on quietly in the background as a source of light, and the Bonded pair just seem to relish each other’s silent company.

They inch closer to each other gradually until their toes touch and meet under the covers.

“I’m tired, this is nice though. We should do this more often,” Oliver laments, finally dropping his head onto Slade’s shoulder.

Fortunately Slade doesn’t seem to flinch away at the contact, easing his head closer to Oliver and wrapping a hand around the Omega’s forearm.

Alphas seemed to have higher body temperatures than other dynamics, but even through clothing, Oliver could tell Slade was warmer than the typical Alpha. Maybe it had something to do with the Mirakuru, jumpstarting his body back to life.

“Sorry things didn’t go to plan,” Slade says gruffly, “I’d hope to make a better first impression but that didn’t happen.”

Oliver’s fingernails carass over coarse hairs down the Alpha’s arm.

“Don’t worry about it, I’m just happy for us to be together. ‘Probably partially my fault as well. I should have known Dig and Felicity would chase me,” Oliver affirms.

Slade makes a humming noise of agreement.

Every exhale Oliver released was cool and ghosting down his neck, Slade found it rather soothing. It calmed the beast and terrors that battered against the inside of his ribcage.

He manages half a glance at the resting Omega on his side, his eyes were half-lidded but Oliver looked content.

️️”You’re good to me, kid. Whatever you want tomorrow, I can behave. For now, are you going to fall asleep on me?”

Sighing, Oliver lifts his head slightly before replacing it on Slade.

“Probably not. I’m too shitty a sleeper for that to happen. I usually don’t sleep too well.”

The Omega lifts his shoulders in a shrug.

“That makes the two of us then.”

Opening the palm of his hand off Oliver’s forearm, Slade swiftly finds his fingers tangled up with Oliver’s. Nudging into the side of his neck, Oliver squeezes his hand in comfort.

“Do you want me to wait for you to go to sleep?” Oliver asks, leaning up marginally.

“ _Psh_ ,” Slade tsks.

“Says the one who always fell asleep on their watch even when our lives very well depended on it.”

With his free hand, Oliver turns the Alpha to face him, playful smirks alive on both of their faces.

“Then hurry up and go to sleep then, so I don’t feel bad.”

Gingerly, Oliver leans forward, hand still entwined with Slade, and places his lips before Slade’s own.

The Alpha shuts his eyes and leans forward.

Oliver closes the distance between them, pecking his mouth onto Slade’s own.

Slade’s face feels hot like a furnace, and the Alpha returns the younger man’s parted kiss with equal half-certainty, half-uncertainty.

There’s partially a scratch, an ache between their faces as their mouths met slowly. The faintest hint of stubble on their chins, rough around their edges, grating, not like kissing a woman.

It was more wanton—unfamiliar territory—,and when Oliver allows himself to close his eyes, he loses himself to desire.

The Alpha’s tongue slides over his lips and inside his mouth without Oliver realising how it got there.

A groan escapes Oliver as he heavily sucks in air through his nose, Slade occupying his mouth and forcing his tongue down into submission.

His hand spasms, clawing nails into the Alpha’s arm.

Teeth run over Oliver’s lip, Slade’s tongue forcing his mouth open deeper, wider, hotter, and wetter.

Oliver releases an unceremonious coughing, croaking sound, forgetting how to breath for a moment.

Slade’s tongue untangles from his own, sliding free of the Omega’s mouth. Though Slade leaves him a parting gift of a wet, smacking kiss on the lips before Oliver is able to catch his breath.

The Omega inhales, running a hand over his no doubt red face.

He still wasn’t quite used to how dominant and ferocious Slade could become when they kissed, not that it wasn’t unwanted.

Eyebrows quirked, Slade looks rather pleased with himself, keeping his breathing to a minimum.

“This only works when we’re both shaved,” Oliver muses, withdrawing his fingers from digging into Slade’s wrist.

 _This—us_ — _you know what I mean, Slade._

He didn’t have to say the words, he was sure the Alpha _knew_.

“I’ll shave everyday then if I have too,” Slade practically purred, teasing his fingers into Oliver’s.

“And you will shave once a month.”

With a roll of his eyes, Oliver pulls his hand free of Slade.

“Shut up and go to sleep, old man,” Oliver says with the faintest hint of bite to his voice.

Lying down, Oliver pulls the sheets up over his shoulder as if to dictate ‘end of discussion’.

The light from the TV in the background vanishes, engulfing the room in darkness.

Shifting beside Oliver indicates Slade lying down to join him.

Even without light, Oliver could feel the Alpha facing him, eyes staring out to where the Omega should logically be.

Oliver reaches an arm out, moving it above the sheets to give Slade an idea where he was.

A hand quickly comes up to meet his own, Slade clasping it with relativeness firmness.

“Thank you, Oliver,” Slade whispers, squeezing his hand.

Oliver squeezes back, murmuring for the Alpha not to worry about it.

Despite everything, Slade’s sleep is uneasy.


	7. Damage Control II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A flashback chapter that’s been a long time coming.

_“Now I know I've got a heart, because it's breaking.”_  
L. Frank Baum ~ The Wonderful Wizard of Oz 

 

xxxxxxxx

_denial._

_denial is the first stage of insanity._

_…_

_Slade lost an eye but at least Oliver was still alive._

_A makeshift eyepatch is strung up around Slade’s right eye. Oliver must know what it's for even if the Omega never says anything._

_Before Oliver returned, he’d taken it off. Once. Only to be greeted with what looked like a festering retina, white and red, leaping back up the inside of his empty socket, forming a spherical shape._

_It was fucking horrifying. Lucky Oliver hadn’t been around to hear him scream._

_Starting far back into his skull where the optic nerve would have been, the eye—if he could even call it that—seemed to move around a lot more when Slade didn’t have anything covering it up and partially falling into the socket._

_He felt the retina slide mushily around the insides of his head, probably kept their by thin nerves and pure desperation. Slade covered it back up after that day, sure if it fell out onto his face, he wouldn’t be able to push it back into his head without pulling apart the fragile strands that held it in there the first place._

_Was the Mirakuru going to repair his eye, like it had repaired his face? Or was what was there the damage left over from Oliver’s arrow?_

_Slade didn’t know, he only knew that by time Oliver came back from wherever he was, a sensation like fire ants eating away his flesh was alive in his right eye. It became more evident by the passing days that whatever Slade’s got pulsating under there, it moves and follows where his left eye goes._

_Still, Slade dares not take it off. Dares not have Oliver accidently see the mess of cornea, iris, sclera, and retina growing inside his damn head. Better to let Oliver live with the lie that he didn’t have an eye._

_Not that he blames the kid to begin with. The pain of his eye went away with time, or just became easier to deal with._

_Oliver stomps into the fuselage eventually while Slade is trying his best to reconstruct a bird trap, which turned out to be surprisingly difficult with his Mirakuru-enhanced strength. The kid dumps the kindling at Slade’s feet, before retreating to his designated side of the dilapidated plane._

_They’re not talking about what happened between them. Oliver doesn’t mention it, so neither does Slade._

_It made existing around one another a difficult affair._

_Slade quickly starts a fire with his lighter, knowing the prospect of dinner had a likely chance of coaxing Oliver over for a conversation._

_True to his expectations, the Omega creeps forward to the opposite side of the fire after Slade’s been roasting their dinner—a lone quail—for several minutes._

_It’s not much, Slade having grown slack in trapping and hunting for food in his grief over losing both Shado and Oliver._

_In the low light of flickering reds and yellows, Slade can see the rings under Oliver’s eyes and the bones in his cheeks under dirty stubble._

_Slade thinks he should offer the whole bird to Oliver but wants to try and get some conversation out of the younger man before letting him simply withdraw with a free meal._

_“You should eat it, I’m not hungry,” Oliver says in a low voice, surprising Slade._

_His head’s down, eyes trained on the fire._

_“Doesn’t matter, you should eat too, kid,” Slade starts, taking care not to be too abrupt._

_“You’re getting too skinny as it is, you don’t even smell the same anymore.”_

_Oliver looks up, meeting Slade’s eyes with a glare._

_“Are you saying I stink!” Oliver protests, in the fitting whining Slade has become used to._

_A chuckle almost escapes Slade. Almost…_

_The Omega’s scent truly bothered him though._

_“Not at all,” Slade assures._

_Pulling the cooked quail away from the fire, Slade places it on a nearby crate to cool._

_“You just—”_

_Don’t even smell like Alpha, which admittedly would make sense because Shado’s hood was still cloaked around Oliver’s chest. Yet Shado was gone, and hadn’t worn the hood for days. Oliver’s natural Omega scent wasn’t spilling through either, nor was it the dirty, earthy smell of the plants and mud Oliver would muck himself in as a scent concealer._

_The scent that emanated from Oliver was predominantly of iron, blood—like he had fresh wounds bleeding. Mixed in with it was something rank though, burnt meat, rotten, acidic._

_It was decay. Death warmed up._

_Slade doesn’t say that though because maybe the Mirakuru has just warped his sense of smell._

_Oliver looked fine, Oliver_ was _fine._

_They both were._

_“—Yeah, you stink, kid. Take a bath or something.”_

_Getting up, Oliver complains saying he will then. Slade tries to stop him of course, yet there was still light out and Oliver had a habit of disappearing lately, so the Alpha didn’t push it when the Omega left without eating._

_After half an hour or so the Omega returns when night has fallen, the campfire the only thing illuminating the fuselage. Oliver’s hair was damp yet the same smell of eroding flesh clung to him._

_Slade is convinced at this point it’s probably him. The inside of his fucking eye that was bleeding, pusing, and infected. Oliver was just too polite and stupid to say anything._

_The Omega retreats to his bedroll, even after Slade tells him to eat the damn bird._

_Slade leaves the quail there on the crate, cold and miserable looking, hoping if he goes to sleep Oliver will get up to eat it._

_By morning, it is rotten, the flies having got at it._

_Oliver, as expected, is also gone._

_…_

_anger._

_who are you really angry with?_

_…_

_Oliver’s fucking off was really beginning to fuck Slade off. It had been like that for the past week or so._

_The kid still contributed his share, cooking, harvesting, and hunting, but the warmth and playful banter from his actions was gone._

_Slade never sees Oliver eat, he may sleep but he seems to leave after Slade’s gone to bed and is never there when the Alpha wakes up._

_A foul stench still seems to hang around Oliver, but Slade also doesn’t have the guts to remove his eyepatch and check on its status either._

_What smiles Oliver offers up are hollow—or sometimes they're not, like that time when Oliver retrieved one of their traps and the bird in it had panicked, impaling itself on a stray stick._

_Oliver had been happy with the bird, and not just because it was a decent size for eating. It had struggled in its confines, blood seeping onto the bars of its prison. Slade thought this was Oliver’s way with dealing with the bird, he didn’t want to snap its neck so he’d rather have it flail and bleed to death._

_By time Slade had untangled the bird from the stick poking out of its back—berating Oliver along the way for his inability to put it out of its misery—the bird was dead._

_What conversations he and Oliver manage though are the worst. He doesn’t know if Oliver is just feigning dumb to avoid his own feelings, but Slade lets him because he doesn’t want to hurt the Omega anymore than he already has._

_Slade tries to make small talk, asking about the Beta girl—Sara—what happened to her? Oliver then had this blank look on his face, as if he could be shouldering a world of pain, but also could not know who the hell she is._

_Knowing he didn’t kill her doesn’t make it any easier for Slade because a part of him still says he might have._

_He didn’t even know what really happened between him and Oliver, so who knows what he might have done to Sara?_

_Would Oliver tell him if he butchered up his old girlfriend?_ No…

_And so that conversation topic was a bust._

_On one of their morning outings to check their traps, Slade detours to take Oliver past the graves of Shado, Yao Fei, and Oliver’s own father. If anything should be able to get Oliver to talk, logically it was this. Even if the Omega just broke down and had a cry._

_“Why are we here, Slade?” Oliver asks, when Slade’s stopped._

_Pulled up in front of the stones marking the three gravesites, clearly not going anywhere else._

_“To pay respects, dumbass,” Slade scolds, pulling the Omega forwards._

_A sickening crunch and a squelch emanates from Oliver’s wrist underneath Slade’s hand. Slade expects to hear a scream and to pull his hand away from Oliver with blood now coating his glove._

_Releasing his hold on the Omega, the Alpha’s eyes dart downward, only to find his glove no more dirty than usual._

_Oliver moves up next to him, turning to face Slade blankly; wrist still intact._

_“They’re dead though, why should we respect the dead,” Oliver states with an incline of his head._

_It isn’t a question, yet even if it was, it still would have came across as impassive to Slade._

_It angers Slade, and rage is a boa constrictor pressing between his every rib until it could threaten to crush him in a single blow._

_Fists clench, teeth grit; Oliver remains a cold appearance, and under circumstances a long time ago, Slade would have made to bash Oliver over the head._

_He’d kill him now though._

_His fist curls into the Omega’s hood, Oliver barely jerking forward at the manhandling._

_“Get your head out of your damn arse, kid. Why? This is Yao Fei and Shado you’re talking about. They helped keep us alive, kid. We’re possibly only still alive now because they’re not.”_

You ungrateful little shit, what is wrong with you? Did what happened to the Beta girlie drain all the love from you?

_Oliver is an unflinching stone pillar, his eyes meet Slade and etrap the Alpha’s._

_Slade can see the ocean reflected in the Omega’s eyes, deep and darker than a man knows. The tide is high, men drown, and what Oliver says next convinces the Alpha he may already have._

_The boy drowned, and a siren emerged._

_“They’re dead, Slade. Why can’t you accept that?_ They’re all dead.”

_At some point Slade releases his hold on the Omega, although Slade is not sure when, Oliver drawing back out of his grip like smoke would evade hands._

_Oliver is wrong, he is wrong, Slade knows he is._

_What did he have to do to show the Omega he cared? He was here for him._

_“Are you hurting?” Slade brings himself to ask, arms trembling at his sides._

_Filled with anger, turmoil, and guilt, Slade knows physically trying to shake sense into Oliver at this stage would only hurt him._

_Maybe that’s what he needed though, Oliver needed to be hurt. Pain put comfort into perspective._

If I break you, can I put you back together, if I rip your arm out of its socket will you—

_—Slade flutters his eyes shut for a moment, then open again, waiting for the words from the Omega that will dispel the images of hurting Oliver in his mind._

_“No, Slade,” Oliver beams, showing teeth and a fake smile._

_“I’ve never felt more alive.”’_

_Yet Slade couldn’t disagree more._

_And the words that Slade wants to hear don’t come, the visions of paining Oliver through physical violence remain._

_Even when the Omega speaks, grins white teeth, throughout all of it Oliver’s silence is deafening._

_Rage festers in Slade’s mind and a blizzard howls through his soul._

_He brushes past Oliver, trudging off in the opposite direction._

xxxxxxxx

_Eventually Slade is forced to ask if he’s severely damaged Oliver in some way. Had he fucked him up somehow?_

_Days pass, maybe a week or so since Oliver returned, and there is no change in the Omega. His presence was less of a comfort and more of a grim shadow at this point._

_Slade wants closure however, an explanation for Oliver’s behaviour, even if in knowing the truth it could hurt him. Anything would be better than continuing this way._

_He’s tiptoed around the Omega’s feelings for too long; and so when Slade arises for the day, he immediately sets out to look for Oliver._

_Oliver is easily found at one of the trapping grounds they use closest to their camp._

_Bent over a trap, Oliver doesn’t immediately notice Slade as the Alpha approaches from behind._

_The scent of death hangs in the air._

_“Kid,” Slade calls, not wanting to frighten the Omega with his approach._

_Tensing up, Oliver’s cocks his head to one side, sniffing the air before noticing Slade out of his peripheral vision._

_Jolting to his feet, Oliver wheels around to face Slade, backing up slightly from the trap which revealed a cooing pheasant inside._

_Oliver eyes were wide, hair matted and his body looked more haggard than usual._

_The image made it seem like the Omega was afraid, right arm shaking around what looked like a piece of metal in his fist._

_Slade takes a small step forward, not wanting to further startle the Omega, but also not liking how Oliver’s hand was clasped around his makeshift weapon tightly. Jagged edges protruded out of the sides of the metal, so Oliver could have easily been bleeding from his hand somewhere._

_“Are you alright, kid?” Slade asks, outstretching an arm slightly._

_Shaking his head, matted hair flies into the Omega’s face._

_“What do you want, Slade?” Oliver responds sternly._

_Despite the cold tone, there seemed to be an underlying element of pain to Oliver’s voice._

_Gesturing out to the Omega’s right hand, Slade creeps forward marginally._

_“Give me the metal, and we can talk about this.”_

_Oliver moves backwards as the Alpha moves forward, head pulled in tight to his body and frame starting to hunch over._

_“No,” Oliver cries, “Stay there. Don’t come near me.”_

_Slade immediately halts his advance though manages to control the irritation that threatened to spill out and colour his face._

I just want to talk to you, dammit. Stop running away. What did I do? What the fuck?! Just tell me, Oliver! You’re starting to really shit me.

_But Slade doesn’t say any of that._

_“I’ll stay here, fine,” Slade concedes, holding his hands out where the Omega could see them._

_“What’s going on though? You’ve been distant ever since the situation with Ivo. I-I don’t one-hundred percent remember what happened, everything’s kind of a blur. But do you want to tell me what happened from your point of view? Is that why you’re hurting? Did something happen with Sara?”_

_Silence hangs over them, the coos and scratches of the bird in its cage the only noises in the background._

_Oliver continually trembles, eyes darting left and right in their sockets._

_“W-What do you mean, what happened?” Oliver stutters out._

_“You... you know what happened, you were there!”_

_A flash of images flit through Slade’s mind at the Omega’s words, yet none of them are particularly helpful._

_A sigh escapes the Alpha, his chest heating up with violent rage._

_“I’m sorry, Oliver. Please, believe me kid. I know I’ve probably hurt you but I didn’t mean it. I dunno what it is I’ve done to hurt you and cause you to act this way, and I sure as hell don’t consciously remember making a decision to want to cause you any kind of grief. I-I dunno if it’s the Mirakuru or something but I feel like I’m losing my mind here, kid. You’re avoiding me but I have no concept as to why other than I know I must have done something.”_

_Something seems to glisten in the Omega’s eyes, like tears welling up in them._

_Oliver’s gaze seeks out the ground, toe of his boot digging into the dirt._

_“It’s too late for that now, Slade. It’s already been done. You can’t take it back.”_

_Pain and anger runs through Slade’s veins. Was Oliver rejecting his apology? Why?!_

_Slade takes a step forward quietly, taking advantage of the Omega’s diverted eyes._

_“I-I can’t take back that I hurt you, kid. I know that,” Slade agrees._

_“But at least let me apologise. You can… You can tell me why you left, kid. I won’t get mad, and I haven’t been mad this whole time either—”_

_A lie Slade wished were true._

_“—I don’t even care that… I’m assuming you stabbed me with that arrow of yours. If you felt you needed to, I can’t blame you for that. Please... let me fix my mistakes.”_

Please, let us go back to the way we used to be, kid. You’re all I have left.

_When Oliver remains silent, eyes averted from Slade, the Alpha moves towards him._

_Almost immediately, the Omega snaps to attention, eyes moist, as Slade closes the distance between them._

_“Please, don’t hurt me,” Oliver murmurs, going completely still._

_The Omega’s shaking ceases, and up close Slade can now tell Oliver is holding a fragment of the destroyed fuselage in his hand._

_Slade reaches a gloved hand out to Oliver’s, hoping to persuade the metal from him and assess his palm for any damage._

_His hand wraps around the surprisingly thin wrist of Oliver’s and the Omega stares him dead in the eyes._

_“Don’t do this, Slade…” Oliver pleads._

_Why, why, is he pleading?_

_Oliver, stop, please, SHUT UP._

I did nothing, why do you make me hurt?!

_The serpent in Slade’s chest hisses; rage constricts its way up through his airway._

_He can’t—_

I can’t _—_

_Somehow Slade forces the monster baring its teeth in his ribcage down without crushing Oliver’s wrist. He inhales sharply, chest finally seeming like it’s able to drink in air; and Slade’s got a finger in between the Omega’s palm and his makeshift weapon._

I can’t let Oliver hurt himself, I won’t forgive myself!

_Oliver’s hand clenches around the shiv, eyes hardening as he stares into Slade’s soul._

_“You can’t do this, Slade. You can’t fix what you’ve broken. You can’t FIX ME!”_

_Pain flares in Slade’s forehead and it’s only when his back connects with the ground does he realise Oliver smashed his forehead directly onto his own._

_Slade scuffles up into a sitting position, more shocked than seriously hurt._

_Kid was strong, he’d give him that. The sudden burst of strength from the Omega surprised him._

_Was Oliver going to use this as an opportunity to run away?_

_What was wrong?!_

_Shuffling into a sitting position, Slade finds the Omega standing before him, eyes empty and mouth set into a firm line._

_“I need to hurt you back for what you’ve done, Slade,” Oliver states, almost robotically._

_“But why?” Slade cries back, “What have I done? Tell me why!”_

_Slade’s mind screams in rhythm with his own verbal protests._

_OMEGA, he is so disrespectful, hurt him, hurt him, teach him a lesson!_

_Oliver snarls, releasing a far more primal sound than Slade thought was capable of coming from an Omega. And in spite of how haggard Oliver looks, the lack of any apparent nourishment or care being put into his body almost made him a more fearful sight._

_“You’re a fucking murdering bastard, that’s why. You killed me, and now I will do the same to you.”_

_Shock runs through Slade’s veins like blood._

No, I never! I’d never do anything to hurt you, Oliver _—_

_He can’t speak though, can’t protest. Can’t fight, can’t move; he is afraid._

_Leering over him, the Omega draws closer, with dark irises so huge and void they looked as if they could consume Slade from the inside out. His lips were pulled back, exposing teeth like polished daggers._

_“An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth,” Oliver coos, as if he were singing a nursery rhyme to a babe, “looks like I’ll be sending you blind, Slade.”_

_Oliver practically howls, braying his white fury to the sky. And then within seconds, he is upon Slade, shiv bared and poised to kill within his hand._

_There is no time to think, Slade panics._

_Slade is slow though, and even with his arms outstretched to block, the Omega lands on top of him with a meaty smack, knocking Slade’s arms to his sides._

_Blurs of colour move above Slade; he feels somehow Oliver has found purchase in his arms, the Omega’s feet or knees digging into the insides of his elbows._

_Snarls erupt from Oliver, adding to the sound of heavy breathing and thumping bellowing in Slade’s ears._

_Oliver’s hands press down on his chest; knees slide haphazardly on either side of Slade._

_Yet he is still physically stronger than the Omega, and so with a burst of adrenaline and fear, Slade yanks his arms out from Oliver’s frenzied confines._

_Hands immediately bat in front of Slade’s chest—from both of them—and Oliver snarls, hacks, and grunts._

_Slade’s gaze locks with Oliver’s._

_Nothing intelligent stares back at Slade, nothing human, nothing loving or compassionate._

_Oliver takes full advantage of this weakness, palms fighting and clawing away Slade’s own._

_The metal from the plane comes into view, drawn back in Oliver’s fingers—Oliver’s only using one hand to keep Slade occupied—and the Omega plunges his fist forward, towards the Alpha’s chest._

_It connects, scraping skin and drawing blood off the Alpha’s knuckle flailing over the left side of his chest._

_Immediately, the Omega draws back, driving the shiv deep once again, this time prying apart Slade’s fingers which barely manage to stop the weapon from going further._

_Blood coats Slade’s fingers which manage to halt Oliver’s attack, shiv just cutting into the Alpha’s undershirt. Not Kevlar, there’s nothing more than pure fabric on Slade’s chest. He’d taken it off when he went to bed, and hadn’t put it back on this morning._

_Slade struggles, continually smacking and forcing Oliver’s hands from his body. His left hand fighting for traction over Oliver, to pull the Omega’s weapon from him._

_But with no true desire to hurt the Omega, his lackluster defense was no match for the Omega’s unyielding, unbridled hysteria._

_Oliver releases a shrill scream, lunging forward with his entire body, the shiv finally sinking into Slade’s chest cavity. With both hands and all of his apparent strength, Oliver forces the metal deeper into Slade._

_Slade hacks, grimly surprised when he doesn’t cough up blood, expecting the metal to have possibly punctured his lung. Pain shoots through his chest, and there’s no bone wall of resistance—his ribcage—slowing the Omega’s weapon that gradually sinks into him._

_Kid knew what he was doing, Oliver’s gotten him between two ribs, finding the path that his shrapnel would slip through easiest._

_Oliver was aiming for his heart. Only the heart was by no means an easy target—especially with a small piece of metal—and Slade never taught Oliver to aim for the heart for that very reason._

_None of this mattered though if Slade didn’t fight back._

_“Kid, please,” Slade grunts._

_Said Omega pays Slade no mind, only sinking his fingers into Slade’s torso to force the shrapnel to finally disappear into his lungs._

_FIGHT BACK, KILL HIM, Slade’s mind screams._

_Leaning forward, his whole body forcing air from the Alpha’s lungs, Oliver wraps blood-stained hands around Slade’s throat._

_Slade spasms, as Oliver squeezes, forcing the first mouthful of blood up his gullet._

_A hand shoots out, and Slade finds himself with his hand embedding into Oliver’s body._

_His chest heaves under Oliver’s body, able to breath again, the Omega’s hands seemingly leaving his neck._

_Alpha and Omega’s eyes both lock._

_Blood splatters across Slade’s lips as it leaves Oliver’s mouth, directly coughed up from his lung. Which Slade has unceremoniously smashed his fist into._

_Some of the darkness—the madness—seems to fade from Oliver’s eyes and the side of Oliver’s mouth quirks upwards._

_“Kid,” Slade croaks._

_Barely moving a muscle, Slade then jolts as the Omega slumps forward onto him._

_Dark blood sloshes down Slade’s wrist from the middle of Oliver’s chest as he struggles not to move his hand inside Oliver. Moist, wet flesh sucks around Slade’s fingers as if it were trying to invade and refill the space Slade’s hand was wrongly occupying._

_The shrapnel in Slade’s side no longer hurt whilst he was looking at Oliver._

_Oliver lifts his head from Slade’s chest, involuntarily spitting a clot of blood up onto Slade’s collarbone. Red ran from the Omega’s nose, and with a snort sending mucus dripping down Oliver’s chin, it was becoming more evident the Omega couldn’t breathe._

_Meeting Slade’s eyes despite all of the pain he must have been in, Oliver frowns._

_“You are cruel, Slade,” Oliver laments._

_The Omega’s body then falls, completely collapses onto Slade._

_Without warning, Oliver is suddenly no longer there._

_Slade’s right arm falls to his side, gore seemingly no longer there either._

_His left hand lingers over his sternum though, blood coating that hand._

_Slade is left wondering why he’s lying there shoving shrapnel into himself._

_..._

_Slade had never fucked Oliver up, Oliver had fucked Slade up._

xxxxxxxx

_bargaining._

_the only bargaining chip you have is your soul._

_…_

_When Slade leaves the fuselage next, it’s in search._

_He was clad in his Kevlar and heavy duty clothes again, not that it really mattered. The Mirakuru sealed up the wound on his side after an hour or so after he dragged the shrapnel out. It repaired just about any damage done to his body, just like it had done with his eye. Which when Slade worked up the confidence to look at it in a fragment of broken glass this morning, it was fine._

_There was no pus or redness to the eye, the iris was a bit sensitive to the light, but that would happen when it wasn’t exposed to any for days._

_Slade covered his eye back up though, because while the Mirakuru healed the damage to his body, that regeneration came at a price. The Mirakuru gave him the eye back that Oliver had taken, but only after it had taken Oliver from him._

_Oliver was gone, and the damage from that wasn’t something the Mirakuru could heal._

_Slade finds what he’s looking for at Fyers’ devastated encampment. A shovel, which he takes back to the gravesites where his comrades are buried._

_Slade digs for what feels like a long time. Digs a hole next to Yao Fei’s grave, because burying a person in stones felt lazy now, like you were time constrained._

_The air is hot and musky with a slight eroded smell to it._

_“Are you going to bury me, Slade?” a voice suddenly asks from nearby._

_Inadvertently, Slade snaps his head up, only to find Oliver sitting cross legged several feet away._

_Slade’s eyes linger over the Omega, immediately picking out the hole in his chest._

_“Go away. You’re gone,” Slade forces out, turning his head away from Oliver._

_The hole he’d dug was nearly deep enough to where Slade would need to stand in it to continue, but it was still too shallow for his liking._

_“You can’t bury me if I’m still here, Slade,” Oliver says rather nonchalantly._

_“Get in then!” Slade seethes, gesturing with the shovel towards the hole in the ground._

_“Go on!”_

_Oliver grimaces, blowing air out of his nose despite there being a gaping hole in his chest._

_“You know where I am, Slade! Don’t think just because you dig me a grave you’ve done anything for my body!”_

_Heartache burns through Slade and he’s sure his expression must betray how weak he’s feeling._

_The shovel falls out of his hand and into the dirt._

What do I have to do to make you happy? What do you want?

_LEAVE ME ALONE!_

_The Omega’s gaze never leaves Slade, eyes seemingly unblinking._

_“Fine,” Slade grumbles._

You win.

_Slade begins to trudge off in the opposite direction, not sure what he’s looking for, but imagines Oliver would follow._

_Footfalls and the smell of decay shadow Slade as he backtracks across the island._

_When Slade reaches the shoreline, Oliver trekking behind him, the boat is gone._

Where is it? Where’s the fucking boat? How does a boat simply just disappear?!

_Yes, it had been days! But where was Oliver, where was the rest of him? On the boat, somewhere in the forest?!_

_His heart instantly drops in his chest, and Slade whips around to face Oliver with fear in his eyes._

_Oliver blankly stares back at Slade, providing no relief to the Alpha’s turmoil._

_Slade continued to walk along the shoreline._

_He would find it, YES, he would find IT!_

_After many hours and a failed search for… Oliver, Slade returns to the grave he’d dug out for the Omega._

_In silence, Oliver walks up to stand beside him._

_Oliver leans in close to Slade._

_“You’re not going to fill that grave, Slade,” Oliver states, though it is more of a promise._

_“A burial is mercy, a burial provides closure. You showed none of that to me.”_

_Slade agreed, and so Oliver’s grave remained barren, empty, and open._

_Just like the hole Slade had left in his chest._

_Oliver disappeared once more into the night._

_…_

_Within a few days, Slade has fled the island. Successfully, and he’s still alive._

_Oliver cannot be fled though, he follows. Perhaps would do so even in Slade’s death, and that is the nightmare of a thought that prevents Slade from taking his own life._

xxxxxxxx

_depression._

_you are only depressed, because you are guilty._

_…_

_Slade lays in his mother’s and father’s bed in their household. The house he grew up in, and the house they died in._

_Since getting out of Okinawa, ASIS had—strictly speaking—relieved him of any and all duties. He’d been let go, Slade had wanted to go. There hadn’t been any psychiatric evaluations, blood tests, or anything else Slade might have been fretting over._

_The mission to rescue Yao Fei had failed, technically years ago. Ever since Fyer’s had killed the Alpha or even before that, since Billy turned out to be a backstabbing cunt and betrayed him._

_It was a mission that there’d been no activity on for three years, so it probably didn’t come as a surprise to the higher ups that it had been a failure._

_Slade had to deliver a report on it. What he said, he can’t quite remember. He hadn’t been detained for claiming to have gained superhuman strength or ranting about hallucinations, so he thinks it must have went over well._

_The payout of money he gets from ASIS is nice—a hefty amount of cash when combined with his inheritance—but Slade didn’t think money would ever do anything for him._

_Ever since Oliver died, Slade had been adrift. What was left over of Oliver from his death, was hardly a comfort._

_Rolling over onto his side, Slade wonders if he’d always been mad. Before the Mirakuru. A ticking timebomb simply waiting for the right spark to ignite him._

_His father had killed himself after his Alpha—Slade’s mother—had died._

_Was the same destined to happen to him? Would he kill himself because his Bondmate—or at least the one he wished was his Bondmate—was dead?_

_The ‘Bondmate’s curse’ it was termed. How can be be afflicted with such a thing though if he was never Bonded though?_

_A thumping comes from the hallway beside Slade, like furniture being banged into._

_As if aware of his distress, Oliver decides now is the time to make his presence known._

_Slade thinks over time the Omega had gotten vastly more delirious—but then again, so had he—, Oliver made so much noise moving about the house, as if he were a large, blind dog._

_One part of Slade wants to yell at Oliver to shut up but ignoring him seemed to be the more_ ‘sane’ _thing to do._

You’re mad, Wilson. You’re fucking mad and you know it!

_Slade flinches when he feels the bed dip beside him._

_Oliver inhales; a congested, horrible noise to Slade’s ears. It was like air slowly being released from a balloon._

_“Hnghh,” the Omega wheezes._

_“I’ve been looking for you, Slade.”_

_Fingers trace across Slade’s back, sending shivers down his spine._

_It was a nice sensation to be touched by another for the first time in weeks. But the one touching him made it oh so wrong._

_“I’m trying to sleep,” Slade lightly protests._

_His shoulders shrug, trying to deter the Omega's advances._

_Slade shuts his eyes tightly, willing the Omega’s presence away._

_“You can sleep with me, Slade,” Oliver says, in between a cough and a splutter, “You can sleep with me forever.”_

_A hand that is more skin and bones than anything else curls around Slade’s shoulder._

_“Isn’t that what you want? For us to be together, forever?”_

_Tremors run through Slade’s body. The Omega seemingly knew his every thought._

_Of course he wanted them to be together! But not like this, never like this!_

_He couldn’t love this Oliver, not like he used to. Did he even comprehend love anymore?_

_“I’d be happier if you were happy,” Slade sighed._

_GO AWAY, be at peace, Oliver._

_“I’m always happy when I’m with you, Slade.”_

_A hollow smile most certainly cracks across Oliver’s face._

_Slade was never at ease when they were together._

_Brows furrow, muscles tense, and Slade rolls over in a single motion to face the Omega._

_Even in the dark, Slade could pick out the raised brows and agape mouth on Oliver._

_“I hate you,” Slade snarls, teeth bared._

_Darting out, Slade plants his fist into Oliver’s stomach, sending him backwards._

_The Omega rolls off the bed, releasing a cry of pain, and falling into the darkness that shrouded the room and floor._

_Within seconds Slade has clawed his way to the other side of the bed, hanging his head over the edge to check for the Omega’s whereabouts._

_Nothing… Oliver had vanished as completely and rapidly as he always did. Only this time, Slade felt like he had dispelled the Omega in actually forcing himself to hurt Oliver._

Yes… _This could work._

 _He would not become his father, he would_ not _go mad. He_ would _take back his life._

xxxxxxxx

_Slade’s blood practically sings as his katana sinks through flesh. A poor replacement for the custom-made blades he had lost to Lian Yu, but it got the job done just as efficiently. Inefficiently when compared to firearms, yet Slade had no need for guns anymore. He feared nothing from the living, only the dead._

_In the circles Slade frequented—though hardly could remember how he fell into—he never gave his name, his face, or left any trace of his existence._

_They called him the Terminator. Hardly an imaginative or classy name, but Slade could hardly argue with the title, as he was efficient at what he did._

_Slade didn’t believe the money from these jobs was buying him, though cash was always a nice incentive. Death… death however was a better incentive, murder helped Slade forget. The suffering of many could drown out the suffering of one, especially when his targets deserved it._

_Rapists, murderers, politicians, liars, deceivers... Slade wasn’t picky about his targets. If there were those willing to throw down thousands of dollars for a shot at having you murdered, you probably deserved it._

_There were personal rules Slade still abided by though, like he wanted nothing to do with kids. Even if they were only going to be in the background of the job; potential collateral damage. No one wanted to be known as ‘the fuckin’ child murderer’._

_Slade withdraws his sword from the man’s chest, realising his mind had been wandering._

_The Omega at the end of his blade—Slade doesn’t care to remember his targets’ names, only their faces—likely died the moment Slade’s steel went through his ribcage. Shock was written across his face and his eyes were wide open._

_Mission accomplished, a simple slaughter in the privacy of one’s own home._

_Glass crunches underfoot—a vase that had been knocked over—and Slade wheels around to the source of the noise, wondering how in the hell someone had snuck up on him._

_Blonde hair and blue eyes greeted Slade._

Oh… it’s just you.

_Oliver._

_Dammit, he must have become so desensitised to the smell of death—Oliver’s rank stench—over the past weeks._

_Slade was still shocked every time at the Omega’s sudden appearances. This was the first time Oliver had popped in on him… when he was on a job though._

_Even with a mask over his face, he still felt like Oliver was staring into his very soul every time the Omega looked his way._

_Oliver’s eyes flick over the body before their feet._

_“Yep, you killed him, Slade,” Oliver chirps, beaming from ear to ear._

_“Shut up!” Slade barks, swinging his sword out in a forward arc._

_How dare Oliver take pleasure in what Slade found to be his only relief from him?_

_The Omega easily sidesteps out of the way of Slade’s blade._

_Slade snorts, blowing air out of his nose._

_Looking him up and down, Oliver’s eyes appear to go wide and confused._

_“You’re wearing a bit more armour than you used to, aren’t you Slade?”_

_Clad in Kevlar, virtually head-to-toe, Slade could see what the Omega meant. He needed this armour though, it was his only protection._

How else am I supposed to keep you out if I don’t wear this?!

_No part of Slade’s body was exposed to the outside world, no where on him would he be privy to Oliver’s naked touch._

_“I’ll never let you touch me again, kid,” Slade bluntly hisses._

_As usual, Oliver ignores him._

_“And the orange, too. What’s up with that? That’s not very good camouflage for what you’re doing, Slade.”_

_Slade turns his back on the Omega, sliding his sword back into its sheath._

_“Just because it’s called assassination doesn’t mean it always has to imply stealth, kid,” Slade corrects._

I’m a mercenary, I exist in no one’s shadows. Not even yours, kid.

_Turning to the window, Slade goes to make his way out the way he came in._

_Silence from behind him indicated the Omega wasn’t immediately following him._

_As Slade goes to jump through the window, Oliver breaks the silence hanging over them._

_“These deaths will not cover up mine, Slade.”_

_A deep rumble vibrates up Slade’s chest as he fixes Oliver with a glare._

_“If only I could kill you.”_

_Hurt crosses Oliver’s face, though Slade doubts it’s genuine._

_Oliver did not weep, Oliver did not cry, Oliver was eternal, and Oliver did not die._

_Slade leaves before the Omega before he can further protest._

_…_

_October 10, 2012, Slade remembers it well._

_The day his mind split down the middle, and his soul cried ‘havoc’, let slip the dogs of war._

xxxxxxxx

_…_

_acceptance._

_to accept is to extract vengeance._

_…_

_Slade was renting a little, dingy hotel room in a peninsula off China—Macau, he thinks this place is called._

_The Alpha went where the jobs took him, which is how he ended up in Asia, a place where hired killers were in relatively high demand. It was because of all the damn Omega sex trafficking._

_He’d been in this business for nearly three years now and Slade thinks his nightmares of Oliver may have finally stopped. The Omega was sacre most times, preferring to keep his distance._

_This hotel room would become his living space for several days, or at least until his target came in on his flight to Macau._

_Macau residents seemed to speak a reasonable amount of English, so at least Slade could find entertainment here in a language he could actually understand._

_Even after nearly half a day’s worth of travelling, the Alpha found he wasn’t tired, so he turned on the news in the background. Slade didn’t really care for the news aside from it sometimes confirmed when his targets were found dead._

_It was like a cathartic process for Slade. He could kill anyone else’s demons bar his own._

_Slade falls back onto the creaking mattress in the hotel room, wondering if his body would somehow allow him sleep._

_Noise from the TV causes Slade’s ears to prick up after a short while._

_“Oliver Queen is alive.”_

WHAT?

_Eyes snapping open, Slade immediately looks around the room for the Omega._

_Oliver was playing tricks on him, the bitch had wisened up, his old antics wouldn’t work on Slade anymore. No, Oliver couldn’t pull the wool over his eyes this time either._

You are dead. Dead, dead, DEAD. I killed you.

_Oliver was not there though—HE HIDES—and the news report from the TV continues._

_“The Starling City Beta was found by fishermen in the North China Sea five days ago—”_

Cunning shithouse rat, _Slade thinks._ I see through all your lies. You will never hurt me, Oliver. I do not care for you at all.

_Slade slinks down off the bed to stand before the TV. Oliver may not show himself but Slade would just have to show him he was not affected by his tormenting._

_“—Five years after he was presumed dead following the accident at sea which claimed the Queen's Gambit.”_

_A smirk engulfs Slade’s face._

_The news cuts to some different footage, to the streets of Starling City, Slade presumes._

_“Queen was a regular tabloid presence and a fixture on the club scene. Shortly before his disappearance, he was acquitted of assault stemming from a highly publicised drunken altercation with paparazzi.”_

_And there it is, quite a different image of the kid than the one Slade was used to._

_Oliver Queen—disgusting Beta—with his stupid beanie and pompous scarf on; with a girl hanging off his arm, prancing about the streets in front of cameras. Making an embarrassment of himself, getting up in the face of the paparazzi. Slade assumes this is where the kid assaulted someone but the video only lasted for a couple seconds._

_How amusing..._

_Is this supposed to hurt him? Is Slade supposed to feel guilty about the life he’s so thoroughly snuffed out._

Spoilt brat, what did I keep you alive?

_“Queen is the son of Starling City billionaire, Alpha Robert Queen who was also on board but now officially confirmed as deceased.”_

_Slade lets out a snort when the news finally cuts to an advert._

Good riddance.

_Another glance around the room showed no Oliver though._

_Fucking bastard, showing him something like that. Trying to make Slade feel bad or scared. A part of Slade would admit that this was one of Oliver’s better stunts, a very convincing illusion._

Pathetic _; Slade turned away from the TV._

_The Alpha retires to bed, able to finally sleep in peace knowing that Oliver Queen was truly dead to him. His dreams are nightmare-free yet when Slade next awakens, he is unusually anxious._

_Slade jolts up in bed, heart hammering away in his chest for some unknown reason. His fists tighten into threadbare sheets and Slade stares out into the darkness shrouding the room._

_Immediately, Slade goes to call out—spit a venomous insult—thinking Oliver had been preying on him whilst he slept. Probably dripping verbal poison into his ear and trying to prompt Slade to fall into a nightmare._

_No words escape Slade. There was a tightness to his throat and a suffocating feeling in his chest the Alpha wasn’t used to._

_Slade scowls, trying to will away the feeling of constriction in his chest._

Is this your revenge Oliver, _Slade mentally asks, seeing as the bastard had robbed him of his ability to speak._

I’m not fooled by your bastard illusions that you try to torment my mind with. So, now you have to torment my body!

_He didn’t like it. Slade was not scared._

_A bead of sweat trickles down Slade’s forehead as he waits for any sign of Oliver stumbling about the room._

_It is completely and utterly dead quiet. Without any light on in the room, Slade couldn’t see._

_It’s hard to breathe, Slade’s chest is heavy, and no words escape him._

_Something is wrong._ OLIVER BASTARD.

_One hand of Slade’s fumbles for his phone on the bedside table._

_Light illuminates the small room and Slade has to take care to not unintentionally crush the electronic._

_Where is Oliver, WHERE IS HE?_

_Fingers move of their own accord, Slade finds himself putting in a web search. Looking for words of comfort that would ease his distress._

_Oliver Queen, Slade searches for._

You're dead, fucker. Maybe you finally learnt to stay that way.

_More search results come up than Slade expected._

_The Alpha’s eye skimmed the top results from his search, not liking what he saw._

“ _—Oliver_ _Queen reappears after five-year disappearance, lost at sea—”_

_“—Oliver Queen discharged from hospital—”_

“ _—Robert Queen undoubtedly proved dead—”_

_“—Is the Queen scion to inherit Queen Consolidated—”_

_“—Oliver Queen to make a fifth visit to the courtroom, the voiding of his death certificate—”_

_Slade’s eye flicked left and right, up and down in its socket. Not really reading; mind not truly ingesting any words._

Why is there so much of it? It’s not—

_The same words that Slade dreaded hearing and reading were constantly repeated over and over again. Video links, news articles, pictures—it was all there._

_“—Oliver. Queen. Is. Alive—”_

_It’s not true though, Slade vigorously shakes his head. It’s not true. Oliver is a sick, perverse liar._

_How dare he show Slade these things?!_

I saw you die. You’ve tormented me for years!

_Slade’s finger hovers over an image; the visual proof had to prove him right._

_The image had a focal point of two people._

_There’s a woman; blonde hair and light eyes, with her hand clasped around the man’s wrist._

_Slade disregards her—meaningless—before turning his eyes to the male._

_He is taller than the woman; from the similar shades of eye and hair colour, one could assume a family resemblance. If his hair weren’t cropped so short it might have been the exact same shade, albeit more of a dirty blonde. That was more unkempt, hung above his shoulders, with more of a rugged stubble than he was currently sporting—_

_—The height is right, the build is right, everything else was right. The text accompanying the image only confirmed what Slade knew._

_Oliver and Moira Queen._

YOU…

_Filled to the brim with shaking rage, Slade flings the phone into a nearby wall._

_It cracks apart into multiple pieces, light dying and dissolving the room into black once more._

_The Alpha snarls through his tight throat, sliding off the bed and onto the floor._

_He shuffles about in the dark, finding the remnants of his phone easily enough._

_Slade smacks his forehead into the wall; uncaring._

I want that photo now! GIVE IT BACK.

_Shattered particles of the phone crunch between Slade’s hands; fingers dig into the wooden floor and it splinters into his hands._

_Slade’s chest heaves tirelessly as he slides to the ground against the wall. His chest was hot, it felt like it was shifting and moving about like quicksand._

_‘Can’t think, can’t breathe!_

It’s dark… where is the light?

Why have you done this, Oliver!

_A hand spasms across Slade’s chest, clawing apart the top of his shirt so that it can smear across his chest. His heart’s hammering away in his fucking ribcage._

_Was he going to die? Was this Oliver’s final revenge?_

_Something cooler than the rest of Slade’s body lies underneath him, but willingly he slides down onto it._

_Was his eyes shut or had he gone blind?_

_Little fragments of something poke into Slade’s underside, but there is too much pain everywhere else for Slade to notice._

Why does it hurt? It shouldn’t hurt…

_The Mirakuru is supposed to take his pain away!_

_Something hot falls onto Slade’s face and he releases a choking noise. Jolting up from the floor, his hands smother over his face._

_It goes on his hands though, something wet and sticky. Like blood._

_Something like a scream escapes Slade, clawing up the inside of his ribcage and his hands dig into his hair. The blood is not there, it’d be in there now though! But the hot uncomfortableness on his face remains._

Get it o-offf!

Why have you done this Oliver, _Slade mentally pleads._

You’re alive, you’re gone, I haven’t hurt you. You tell me you’re alive, what have I done then?

_Was it really true? Could it be true? Was Oliver alive? Why had Slade been punished then?_

_Slade coughs, swallowing around a lump in his throat._

_He wants to scream._

WHY HAVE YOU HURT ME OLIVER. WHAT HAVE I DONE?

_Wetness drips down Slade’s nose and mouth. It didn’t smell like blood._

_The Alpha’s fingers go to his eyes and find that the moist, hotness seeps out from them, even from under his lone eyepatch._

_They’re thick, wet, angry tears._

_Slade does not cry however. This…_

_Teeth grit; fists clench; brows furrow, and Slade shakes with rage._

_This was Oliver’s doing._

_Staring out into the darkness, Slade still finds no sign of the Omega._

Why did you show me these things _, Slade calls out into his mind._

_Nothing… no response._

I know where you are now, kid. You shouldn’t have shown me that.

_Pulling himself up from the floor—was he on the floor?—pain digs into Slade’s hands and knees. It only increased his rage, hurt and heartache now consuming his entire being._

_“I know where you are now! I’ll kill you!”_

_He is a burning beacon of hatred and ire, and he will not go out quietly._

_Only with Oliver’s death could Slade be free of his tormenting. Himself or Oliver, it was a choice he should have made a long time ago._

_Slade snarls, deep and guttural, vibrating through his entire being._

YES… _This profession and agenda of his worked out quite nicely. It provided money and opportunities for travel._

_He knew where Oliver was now, no need to hurry. Slade would make his way to Starling City in due time._

_Revenge was a dish best served cold, after all. With time, Slade would best realise and think of how to break the Omega. Vengeance had to be extracted slowly, like teeth, it was all the more painful that way._

_He laughs, husky and harsh; getting to his feet._

_“I will not allow you to hurt me anymore, kid,” Slade states to the open room._

_For once, Oliver is silent and does not respond. He hides, as he should do._

xxxxxxxx

_The air is frigid during December in Starling City, albeit there is no snow._

_The cold is of no concern to the Alpha, ‘wouldn’t have been even if he wasn’t covered head-to-toe in his armour-like equipment._

_He is a constant blazing inferno of rage, and Slade is cloaked accordingly in black and orange. The night and danger; camouflage and warning._

_Slade prowls appropriately in the low lights and across dilapidated buildings away from prying eyes. As if he were a caged tiger, he often desired the occasional walk—away from the four walls he had confined himself to. To stretch his legs and see the outside world._

_Leaving the city for jobs didn’t count. Hunting someone else’s prey or predator was no fun. He wanted to stalk his own, even if now wasn’t the time when he could finish it off.._

_No need to give chase, Slade would flush Oliver out._

_Slade would inadvertently wound before he maimed._

_His… vultures—those somewhat imbecilic, power-hungry ‘associates’ of his—had yet to circle. Not that Slade cared for them much, they were simply a means to an end. Only the weak hunted in packs, Slade was strong._

_He wanted Oliver worn down before he personally preyed upon him. It would be all the more relishable that way._

_When he is done with the Omega—like the vultures they are—, Miss Rochev and Mr Blood would be there to pick the remaining strips off Oliver. Not that there would be much left._

Oh, how many enemies you have made, kid, _Slade muses, smirking behind his mask._

_Oliver’s friends, his family, this city—all those things that Oliver loved and put before himself—they would all be made to suffer for the kid’s actions. By hurting them, Slade would dig deeper wounds into Oliver than any knife could._

_He would most relish breaking the Omega’s spirit._

_Slade scurries across a rooftop in the Glades, movement up high catching his eyes._

_Leaning back on his haunches, Slade’s eye hones in on the lone figure across the streets like a hawk._

_Even in low-lampshaded lights, they didn’t quite blend into the dark as well as Slade did. Cloaked in dark green, not black._

_Teeth scrape against the inside of Slade’s mask and his hand curls around the hilt of his sword._

_Oliver often frequented the Glades, attempting to play doctor and saviour to his city._

_There were certain spots up high—Slade knew them well—that the Omega would use as his lookout points._

_They’d never been so close before though, mere metres of distance between them._

_Crouched low to the ground in darkness, Slade doubts Oliver sees him. If Oliver remained stationary, Slade’s sure he could stealth his way across the streets without having to make for the ground._

_A chase would be fun though, it would amuse Slade if Oliver saw him._

_However, if Slade got too close… well, he wouldn’t want to put Oliver out of his misery too soon._

_Slade was only just beginning to sow the seeds of Oliver’s destruction. He would drag the Omega’s agony out for weeks._

_A siren roaring down the streets causes Slade’s ears to prick up._

_Leaning over the edge of the building, Slade notices police vehicles storming down the road._

_His gaze flicked away from them—what did Slade care—landing back on Oliver._

_Only Oliver is gone, and a snarl rips its way up Slade’s throat._

_Eye scouring the rooftops, Slade easily enough locates the Omega, making haste in the direction the coppers were moving._

_YES… Very well. Not yet..._

_Slade’s hand loosens from his blade and falls back down to his side._

_He watches Oliver with a hungry gaze until the Omega disappears from his sight._

I will burn your city to the ground with you in it.

xxxxxxxx

He’s asleep… no, he’s awake. His eyes are open but they’re shrouded in darkness, they must be shut then. Why can’t he open them and see?

Nothing moves—not just his eyes—he can’t move anything. He’s completely and utterly paralysed. There is nothing, he is nothing.

Was he ever anything? He can’t remember.

Words scrape up his throat—yes, he has a throat, he is something, something alive—but they die on his lips. A coughing, grating noise escapes him and erratic, hot breaths ghost across his face.

Yes, that is him!

He inhales—he can do that—and shortly after that feels the air involuntarily leave him. Breathing is hard though, his chest is heavy and the air is sluggish.

Another hack escapes him, only this time something changes. His head falls into something soft but still won’t move when he wills it to lift up.

Cars and sirens go off somewhere, but probably nowhere near him. It is distant. The creaking of something and a shuffling sound that follows shortly after it is closer to him.

Muscles tense; his only breaths leave him as fast as he can take them in. He’s only just noticed it but there was something on top of him. Something light, but it was on his chest. The chest he could barely keep air in!

Jolting upwards, albeit lethargy, something moves this time. Facial muscles clench, his toes unfurl.

He can move, yes, he can move! He will not fade into oblivion!

He spasms again, this time possibly of his own accord. Legs kick up into fabric and his neck finally manages to hold his head up.

Eyes blink, only he is still unseeing.

A hand spasms over his face, a shriek finally escaping him. It is loud and deafening on his ears but still sounded far away.

His other arm bats out to the side of him, flailing wildly, searching for light. Searching for movement. Anything! Anything to ensure he no longer existed in this darkness.

A bang, a thump goes off close to him.

Progress, this was going somewhere!

Right arm clawing into fabric—searching its surface—his left hand prys apart his eyelids. They were open, but he hadn’t had to touch them or do anything to make them that way.

There was still no light, he was still blind!

Erratic breaths escaped him. His whole body shakes. None of this was normal, it shouldn’t be this way!

Suddenly, there is light! He is blinded by it—no, no, he can see again.

He remembers, he exists.

The claws of darkness unfurl from around his soul, allowing him to move again—he’s still trembling out of his own control though.

Only the same hand swiftly moves to Slade’s foot—fingers curled around him—causing him to flinch backwards into his ribcage.

Slade can’t help that he screams, loud and earsplitting.

 


	8. Damage Control III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a forewarning, I’m about to go away for a couple weeks. May or may not have Internet. If not, this might be the last update for a month or so.
> 
> Regardless, hope you enjoy this chapter! Any feedback or criticism is always welcome.

 

It takes Slade a moment to regain his senses, eyes adjusting to the light.

He’d been dreaming—yes, he remembered now—only Slade never dreamed. Slade recalled only nightmares, events past and always the terrifying truth. Always the same nightmares...

His heart was racing a hundred miles an hour in his chest and Slade was still short of breath.

Blinking in the low light, Slade waits for his eyes to refocus once he realises his scream had fallen on mostly deaf ears. He is alone (he hopes), his personal demon not here to torment him.

Despite wanting to believe that, Slade still has sheets pulled up around his chest in a white-knuckled grasp as he re-evaluates his surroundings.

Light spilled into the room from the TV on the wall. There were noises too, sound was coming from it, albeit quietly.

Slade’s eyes scan for the remote, wondering when he had turned the TV on.

He didn’t want to leave the safety—nowhere was safe though—of his bed. When Slade goes to pull his knees up to his body, he realises his left foot doesn’t follow his right, something lightly ensnaring it.

A breath hitches in Slade’s throat and his eyes hone onto the end of the bed.

It was still on him— _what the fuck?!_

The Alpha’s head smacks back into the bed-frame when he spies Oliver leering in the darkness, one hand around Slade’s ankle.

Oliver promptly perks up—body jacking up from where he appeared to be crouching by the end of the bed—releasing his hold on Slade.

Slade’s leg immediately shoots up to join his other one, hugging his chest.

The Omega watches him with wide eyes, the sweet scent of vanilla coming off him.

Shaking his head, Slade takes note of the short, cropped hair and the sweatshirt that was _his_ on the Omega.

A sigh of relief escapes Slade when he believes his eyes to not be deceiving him. This was the real Oliver—Oliver had been here last night—, not his bastard, reverent version of the Omega.

Still, Slade shakes.

Placing both hands on the sheets where Slade could see them, Oliver’s fingers reveal the TV remote.

Slade blinks, had Oliver known to wake him from his nightmare?

Oliver clears his throat, breaking the silence.

“Are you alright?”

Brows lower over the Omega’s dark eyes, revealing something Slade wasn’t used to.

“I thought it wiser than to try and grab you by the arm, so I went for your foot.”

Concern spilt into the Omega’s voice.

“I’m f-f-fine,” Slade tries to affirm.

His knees and hands won’t lower from his shaking chest.

Still crouched over, Oliver slowly shuffles back over to the left side of the bed.

The sheets were strewn across the bed on the side Oliver had been sleeping on.

Eyes trained on Oliver—unblinking—,Slade watches as the Omega slowly crept back onto the bed.

Slade shakes in his skin, gaze on Oliver but more so looking through him than at him.

Hands reach out and encircle his bicep.

Flinching away, Slade wants to run, but finds his body being forced downwards by the weight on his arm. His whole body was shaking, he didn’t want to fight, didn’t want to struggle.

“ _Slade…_ ”

The pressure on his arm increases, pressing slightly into his shoulder.

_Oliver’s voice…_ Yes, that was Oliver.

He had a nice tone of voice, not screaming at Slade, hands that were not punishing Slade.

Blankly staring into space, Slade allows Oliver to force him onto his back, legs sliding away from his chest. One hand of Slade’s still firmly grips the blankets, while the other Oliver keeps a hold on.

There’s a thin sheen of sweat on his body.

Any grief Slade feels seems to ebb slightly in Oliver’s presence. Yet no where near enough to the point where he wasn’t restless.

A croak escapes Slade.

“ _Shh…_ ” Oliver sooths, cool air trickling over Slade’s ear.

Fingers trail over the Alpha’s chest to which Slade promptly grunts at.

Words weren’t forming in his brain, his mind was a trainwreck of unhelpful images. He wanted to sleep...

Oliver runs a hand over Slade’s sternum while his other arm remained entangled with Slade’s.

“I’m here, it’s just us here, Slade,” Oliver assures after an indeterminable amount of time for Slade.

Slade’s head bobs up from the pillow, searching for where the Omega’s voice was coming from but a light shove from Oliver halts his advance.

“I’m not going anywhere. Just stay put, Slade. Focus on my voice. I care for you, old man.”

“ _Hhggh,”_ is the only response Slade seemed able to form.

Trembles still shook his body but they seemed to radiate from the side of him that Oliver didn’t have a hold on.

Slade’s eyes are trained on the ceiling. He thinks the lack of light there might be disorienting him.

The Alpha rolls his head to one side, gaze instantly meeting Oliver’s.

Blinking, blue eyes stare back at Slade.

Oliver was so close to him… their noses almost touching.

Managing to flick his sight down through a confusing headache, Slade takes note that the Omega’s body was even closer to him than his face was.

Oliver’s curled up on his side, Slade’s arm forced up against his chest, and the Omega keeping it there by usage of his own arm. The Omega’s knees touch the side of Slade’s hip.

Slade’s lips quirk upwards into a smile, or at least he hopes they do.

Returning the gesture, Oliver strokes his fingers over Slade’s chest with renewed vigour.

“I want you to go to sleep, Slade,” Oliver says.

It’s more of an unspoken command though to Slade, as he feels compelled to listen to the Omega and do what he says. This one wasn’t hurting him right now and Slade liked existing without hurt.

Hands trace across his body, they soothe him, ease away his shudders.

“Will you…” Slade goes to ask, partially forming a sentence before realising he didn’t know what he wanted to say.

Oliver was so beautiful, Slade didn’t know how to describe it. It was in the Omega’s face and eyes, he knew that much.

“I’ll be here when you wake up,” Oliver promises, stroking Slade’s forearm.

For once Slade thinks he can trust mere words.

_Yes…_ If his Omega asked him to sleep, he would sleep. If only for the prospect of seeing Oliver when he awoke.

Slade flutters his eyes shut, trying to keep the picture of Oliver’s face in his mind as he drifted into unconsciousness.

xxxxxxxx

Oliver lets out a sigh of relief when Slade’s eyes are no longer trained on him. He’d been holding it in for a while, waiting for the telltale signs of certainty that Slade had fallen asleep.

The left side of Oliver’s face stung and throbbed and he finally releases a hiss of pain.

He’d been fast, but not fast enough.

When Slade first stirred, Oliver had too, hearing the Alpha’s moans and muttering away in his half-sleep-like state.

Concerned, the Omega had loomed over Slade’s body, contemplating whether or not he should disturb him.

Before Oliver could think on the best cause of action for rousing Slade, the Alpha had startled on his own.

Oliver probably should have anticipated that Slade would lash out, had done it himself in the past.

He hadn’t even went to make a move before something struck out in front of him. His mind perceived danger, but his body had been too slow to react to its warning.

Only managing to twist to one side to avoid a frontal attack, Slade’s knuckles—Oliver presumes—had smacked into the side of his cheekbone. No sound had left him but Oliver thinks that’s because he’d been in shock.

Slade had inadvertently hit him and the force behind his backhand felt like it could have shattered parts of Oliver’s skull.

Pain had immediately flared up in the left side of the Omega’s face and Oliver had smartly tumbled out of bed.

Something else had clattered to the floor with him, which when Oliver had palmed around for it, he’d realised it was the remote.

Thankfully none of the batteries had popped out of it and rolled into the dark so then Oliver had a way of reinstating light to the room.

Oliver grimaces just remembering it, still applying pressure onto Slade’s arm. There wasn’t any part of Oliver that blamed Slade for his reaction—he couldn’t, not when Oliver himself was capable of the same—yet he couldn’t risk taking another blow from Slade like that.

Even now when the Alpha was out of it, Oliver wasn’t yet confident to remove his arm from pressing down on Slade’s bicep. The rest of his body was accordingly curled up next to Slade, trying to prevent Slade from moving too rapidly or building up a lot of strength to his swing.

Slade could break his hold—easily, they both knew that—though thankfully the Alpha had seemed to calm down and heed his words that it was ‘safe’ for Slade to go back to sleep. The Alpha’s right arm was still a worry, albeit Oliver would have more time to move if Slade went to lash out with it.

Oliver hated that he felt like he was treating Slade like a wild animal—volatile and unpredictable. A bruise that was certainly about to form on his face prevented Oliver from feeling too bad about it though.

His face was internally bleeding—he was sure of it—the pain had better not be because any of his bones had fractured.

Part of Oliver wants to get up and look in a mirror to check if his face had a black-blue mark forming on it. However, he also couldn’t leave Slade, the Alpha expected him to be here when he next awoke.

There was no way Oliver could let Slade know he hurt him. Even if Slade brought it up, he’d just have to deny it.

Oliver just had to bargain on visual bruising not showing up until, at the earliest, tomorrow.

When he got home, Oliver could cover up his cheekbone. Pilfering Thea’s makeup and foundation came in handy for when Oliver needed it.

Shaking his head, Oliver rests his aching cheek into a pillow beside Slade’s head.

Sliding his hand away from the Alpha’s chest, Oliver relegates both of his arms to brace Slade’s.

He lov— _no_ , he couldn’t say that—really _liked_ Slade. Why did things have to be so difficult between them?

Hopefully tomorrow would be better. He and Slade were expected to go and converse with his friends about their relationship, after all.

xxxxxxxx

Oliver lightly dozes, not quite sleeping. The evened-out breathing of Slade’s comforted him and allowed him to let his guard down.

After a while, Slade’s arm tenses underneath him and a croak leaves the Alpha. Oliver’s eyes fly open, the Alpha’s hand now latching onto his arm.

“ _‘Sup_ ,” Slade comments.

Meeting Slade’s gaze, Oliver realises the older man was actually awake and alert this time.

Slade’s hand on Oliver squeezes him assuringly.

A smile graces Oliver’s face as he removes his hold from Slade.

Slade moves, sitting himself upright on the bed and Oliver moves back slightly, positioning himself on his haunches.

Something like a nervous cough leaves Slade, wry smile on his face as Slade scratches a hand over his collarbone.

He wasn’t meeting Oliver’s gaze.

“I could use that handy right about now,” Slade bluntly quips.

Shock runs through Oliver but his mind is ecstatic. That… wasn’t what he was expecting.

He doesn’t know if Slade’s joking but heat pools in his stomach. Shifting on his haunches, Oliver wonders if he’s seriously considering this.

_You’re a fucking dirty whore, Queen_.

But if Slade’s asking, than Oliver would be doing it for the Alpha and not himself.

His right hand slides out to rest on Slade’s stomach—above the shirt, not under—and Oliver smoothes sheets out of his way.

Slade’s head immediately snaps around to meet him, their faces now suddenly and unexpectedly close to each other.

“Are you alright?” Oliver asks, hand now hovering slightly above Slade.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Slade answers, quietly, “Just… not used to this.”

Slade raises his shoulders in a shrug, shaking his head before continuing.

“Are you serious about this?”

Oliver raises a brow.

“Yeah. I’m seriously if you’re serious. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do though.”

His hand tightens back into the fabric just above Slade’s waistline.

“Do you want me to stop?”

Oliver makes sure to look Slade dead in the eyes when he asks.

Slade tilts his head to one side, like he were hoping to fold in on himself, but runs a hand over Oliver’s outstretched arm.

“No, no. It’s just weird… different, I mean. Having someone touch me alot.”

It dawns on Oliver that Slade probably hadn’t had any humanlike contact for years. Five years. Similar to how it had been for Oliver, but he imagined it to be worse for Slade. Slade was plagued by constant hallucinations and didn’t appear to have anyone like family there for him.

_I’m all he has..._

That realisation steels Oliver’s resolve that he wants to do this.

Moving forward, Oliver is quickly halted by Slade’s hand curling around his chin.

“Y’know…” Slade drawls, rolling his eyes to one side.

Oliver scowls, Slade was smirking and just being a dick now. Glad to see he had that effect on the Alpha.

Perhaps Slade didn’t remember earlier at all?

“One thing we haven’t discussed is your cheating whore ass. I’ll have you know I won’t stand for any of that shit.”

Slade _tsks_ , flashing teeth at Oliver in a half-grin, half-grimace.

“What can I say? I’m hard to please, old man,” Oliver defends, brows quirked upwards and lip curling to one side.

“Yah, ‘cause you’ve never had an Alpha keeping your arse in place before. ‘The fuck you thinking only dating Omegas and Betas for half your life, no wonder you were having problems,” Slade half-spits the words.

Wrapping a hand around Slade’s, Oliver smiles.

“I was saving myself for the right Alpha.”

A blank expression crosses Slade’s face, mouth straightening into a thin line. Before Slade shakes his head, releasing a low growl.

“Oh, shut your lying-ass, whore mouth, Oliver. Or better yet, put it where it’s useful.”

“I will then,” Oliver agrees.

Swiping Slade’s hand away from him, Oliver leans forward on his haunches.

A shimmer of fear was still present in Slade’s eyes.

Oliver presses a quick peck on Slade’s face, lingering with their foreheads pressed together when Slade doesn’t startle.

“Shh, just relax,” the Omega tries to console.

He was trying to get his hands around Slade’s cock and keep Slade’s mind from sliding back into nightmares. It was hard for Oliver to put the two together. Comforting someone else wasn’t exactly something he was accustomed to.

Shameful as it might have been to admit, he just wanted to fondle his Alpha’s cock and indulge for once.

“Lie back. Let me do this.”

Slade, disgruntled, seems to oblige, flopping onto his back.

Not removing his gaze from Slade’s, Oliver maneuvers his hand into Slade’s pants.

The Alpha’s eyes flick to one side.

A scowl crosses Oliver’s face but he quickly removes it.

“Close your eyes,” Oliver says with a hint of demand, “I promise I’m not going to hurt you.”

As Slade squeezes his eyes shut, Oliver readjusts his attention to relieving the Alpha.

Slade’s uncertainty and doubt was starting to make things fucking weird for Oliver, he wasn’t used to so many emotions. It was easier to just let the part of himself that wanted to run his hands all over Slade’s cock and body take control.

So Oliver did.

A breath hitches in Slade’s throat as a cool hand touches the side of his cock. Oliver seems to wait for a moment—fingers curling around his shaft—before pulling him out.

Fingers loop around the base of Slade’s cock and a shudder runs through his body, pooling in his groin.

"Ugh, it's been awhile," Slade admits, somewhat awkwardly, keeping his eyes shut.

"Not for long,” Oliver responds, almost coldly.

Oliver’s palm swoops underneath Slade’s shaft, callouses on his hand caressing the skin of Slade’s cock. Another hand joins in, unexpectedly grabbing Slade’s balls.

Slade tenses, Oliver’s fingers rubbing and pressing around his balls while his cock was being softly stroked on its underside. A thumb ran over the top of his balls, slowly but firmly,  pressing over hot skin and ending with Oliver’s thumb forcing his thighs apart.

The Alpha lightly coughs as Oliver gives his balls a light squeeze.

"And you complain I'm tight,” Oliver quips.

Air trickles over Slade’s ear.

A creaking noise goes off near Slade, but the hands caressing over his body continue. Slade could feel his balls tighten and blood rush to his dick as Oliver ran blunt nails along it.

Instantly, something drops onto both sides of Slade, mattress letting out a squeak. Weight lowers onto Slade’s legs and they’re immediately somewhat trapped.

Eyes snapping open, Slade finds them shielded as Oliver’s palm comes up to rest over his eyes.

“What the hell, kid?” Slade growls.

His hand curled into Oliver’s palm over his face, yet not removing it.

Movement—something pressing into both sides of his abdomen—and a hand going up and down the shaft of his cock, informed Slade that Oliver’s legs were half-straddling him.

Oliver was sat on his legs, knees probably up somewhere around Slade’s chest.

Slade blinks despite Oliver’s hand over his face.

A tight ring of pleasure had been formed over his cock, gently tugging down his shaft and then feeling like it was pushing pressure back up his dick, which only caused it to harden.

The Omega’s long thumb and forefinger were clasped around most of his reasonable girth.

A cry forms in the back of Slade’s throat, but he’s not sure about letting it out.

"Think about all the times you could have fucked me, Slade,” Oliver urges, voice low and sultry.

Fingers around Slade’s cock twist—tugging, building up intensity. Oliver picks up speed, he’s fast pulling his hand down to the head of Slade’s member, but slow as he ascends back up it.

Removing his hand from Slade’s face, Oliver swiftly presses Slade’s eyelids back over his eyes. As if daring the Alpha to try and defy his Omega’s will.

For once, Slade doesn’t. His Omega’s will was his own.

The top of Slade’s shirt is fisted upwards as Oliver shoves the head of his length into his hand. Oliver squeezes and Slade thinks his dick gets at least half-hard in that instant.

“Did you ever think about fucking your Omega hard, Slade?”

Breath ghosts across Slade’s face, Oliver was leaning over him but still teasing his dick.

One finger runs in between the slit of Slade’s cock and this time Slade’s fingers curl into sheets.

Releasing a pant, Slade searches for words to respond with.

“You were playing hard to get,” Slade meekly defends.

Nails dig in around Slade’s collarbone. It doesn’t hurt, but his Omega is clearly unimpressed. The hand on his dick fully clamps around his member.

Snarling, Oliver twists his palm around Slade.

"Or were you not trying hard enough, old man?"

A growl forms in Slade’s throat but it dies off when Oliver vigorously pulls his dick through his hand like it were nothing.

The hand hovering below his neck leaves him before Oliver is grasping up Slade’s right hand.

Oliver’s knees roll forward, his body bucks into Slade’s, and his hand loosens its punishing grip on Slade’s dick.

A shuddery gasp is released, and this time Slade knows it’s not him.

Fondling his dick with one hand—caressing it so Oliver was forcing his cock almost upright—Oliver’s other hand guides Slade elsewhere.

Fabric parts beneath Slade’s hand and the Alpha realises what this is when his palm meets smooth flesh.

The skin parts—there’s a dip in it that Slade can run his fingers down—but the flesh on either side of it is thick.

Slade blinks without really seeing before realising Oliver might see him doing so.

The Omega’s hands were clasped around his mostly-hard dick and now Slade had a hand on Oliver’s ass!

Oliver leans back into the palm Slade has on his ass, prompting him. Both hands of Oliver’s fist up Slade’s dick, pressing it as close to the Omega’s body as it’ll go.

A whining sort of growl escapes Oliver.

“I’m fucking tight, Slade. I hate it. I can’t get myself off, not how I want to.”

It almost sounded like Oliver was pleading with him.

Slade’s fingers move of their own accord, seeking out the Omega’s entrance. Oliver practically keens—hands tightening around Slade’s member—as Slade brushes over it easily enough.

The only wetness in the Omega’s jocks was the sweat off Slade’s own palm though.

_Damn, he’s dry_ , Slade grimaces.

He pursues anyway, sliding a finger into the Omega’s tight hole. Lifting upwards, the Omega clearly allows it, hands still thrusting madly up and down Slade’s cock.

Even with most of the blood gone to his dick, Slade still finds himself mildly pleased when Oliver gasps, a small amount of slick dripping onto Slade’s digit.

They would never get anywhere though with this amount of slick from Oliver.

This unexpectedly feels wrong in Slade’s mind. Oliver was mindlessly stroking his dick like there was no tomorrow, but with the Omega on top of him like this, there was no way Slade could make for Oliver’s secondary tract or his prostate.

Slade should be sticking his dick in Oliver’s boy-cunt right now, but they both knew there was no way that was going to happen at this point.

Artificial lubricant was invented for otherwise difficult _‘situations’_ like this one, but Slade imagines suggesting the usage of any would just come across as offensive to Oliver.

He didn’t want to make the suggestion that his Omega wasn’t sexually competent, pleasing, or anything like that.

Oliver huffs, seeming to regain some composure, slowly tickling Slade’s cock again. His hands danced up and down Slade’s shaft.

The first precum seemed to spill from Slade’s cock.

Realising this, Slade shoves his finger deeper into Oliver.

Panting, Oliver bucks on top of Slade.

It’s not really of any help to Slade though, Oliver was still too dry to allow for easy passage up his ass. Even with the extra slick he was secreting.

“The first time I went into heat, you tied me to a goddamn chair. That same chair you tied me to when we first met and I dislocated my thumb to get out of it,” Oliver moans, somewhere between pleasure and pain.

His hands tighten around Slade, more precum spilling across his fingers.

_God, this is pathetic,_ Slade thinks to himself. He was so close to getting off, it really had been a long time, hadn’t it?

Close to five years without sex—bar one quick heat-fuck-and-knot with Oliver.

"I was stupid,” Slade grimaces, eyes still shut.

“‘Turned my back on you. I tied you up to the chair harder, but you just pulled the same stunt. ‘Forgot you escaped that one before, little shit.”

Oliver releases a wince, rolling Slade’s balls between one hand and the Alpha’s dick in the other. Slade, accordingly tries to stroke that pleasureable-out-of-reach spot for Oliver.

"There were a lot of times when we sparred where you knocked me onto my knees, or my ass, sometimes even landed on top of me. You could have yanked my pants down around my ankles and I probably would have let you."

Slade’s dick seems to go unbelievably tight at Oliver’s words.

"Did you get hard thinking about how much you wanted to fuck me back then? I know I did."

_I know I did…_

Those same words echo in Slade’s mind as Oliver applies pressure on his dick.

Finally, he orgasms, and Slade can’t help that his eyes flutter open.

Laying his eyes on Oliver, Slade notices the Omega looked unexpectedly exhausted, dark rings around his eyes.

Oliver was sat on top of him about the way he expected, come now spilt down his hands, Slade’s cock, and the Alpha’s pants.

Still sat on top of him, Oliver reaches out, grabbing the box of tissues from Slade’s bedside table.

The Omega then leans forward on his haunches, making a disgruntled noise.

One hand of his wraps around the wrist Slade still has down his pants.

“Out,” Oliver puts sternly.

Obliging, Slade slowly and lightly pulls his finger out from inside Oliver. Oliver makes a slight squeak at the intrusion leaving him.

They were both quiet, and Slade didn’t know how to react or break the silence.

It dawns on the Alpha that although he’d gotten off, nothing about this handjob was overly intimate. To Slade’s, it seemed more like Oliver was silently pleading with him, desiring similar sexual affections back.

The thought bothers Slade.

Plucking the tissues from where he’d dropped them on Slade’s chest, Oliver swiftly starts cleaning up his hands, Slade’s dick, and the rest of the Alpha.

When he’s done—dirty tissues discarded on the bedside table—Oliver removes himself from sitting on top of the Alpha and flops back down onto the left side of the bed.

Slade promptly tucks his cock back into his pants, prominent erection surely starting to lessen. Despite that, he still felt like he could get hard again if the situation allowed it. His dick tingled and all of the nerve ends in his body seemed to have become hypersensitive and aware. He’d fuck Oliver, he knew he would. The Alpha’s cock practically demanded he did, remaining semi-malleable and a distraction to Slade.

Oliver rolls over onto his side, sheets pulled back over his body.

Shuffling over in Oliver’s direction, Slade does the same.

Right now, it seemed like the Omega needed his attention more than he needed his cock. Ignoring the heat in the pit of his stomach and the half-throbbing urge in his length, Slade goes to lie slightly behind the Omega.

After a moment of nothing being said between them, Slade moves his face in between Oliver’s neck and shoulder.

“You crabby?” Slade asks, breath trickling over the Omega’s ear.

The Omega shifts his shoulder, nearly knocking Slade in the eye.

“No…”

“You’re allowed to be... I’m sorry I’m not the best Alpha,” Slade apologises, though knows his words likely hold little weight to them.

Oliver exhales.

“Just lo—like, hold me, old man,” Oliver says, tripping over his words.

Shock and warmth runs through Slade.

His mind can’t immediately form words for a response but his left arm reaches out towards Oliver.

“Is this okay?” Slade questions gingerly, arm swooping over Oliver.

The Omega nods his head.

“Yes.”

Slade promptly then moves in closer to the Omega, arm wrapping around Oliver’s midsection, face seated just behind the Omega, and knees tucking up to fully embracing Oliver.

He is consciously aware though to keep his _‘not entirely’_ flaccid cock from poking into the Omega’s side.

Oliver’s hands encircle Slade’s own, not pushing him away.

“You’ve been kind of off since earlier, kid,” Slade states.

“So have you.”

Rubbing his arm over the Omega’s stomach, Slade smiles when Oliver’s fingers carass his arm.

“Rough night, eh?”

The Omega releases a huff, poking a finger into the side of Slade’s arm.

“I expect to be paid back for the handy, Mr. Wilson,” Oliver states nonchalantly, not turning around to face the Alpha.

Rolling his eyes, Slade _tsks_.

“Maybe after you go off those suppressants. You owe me that much to at least attempt to make the process a little easier for both of us.”

“Done,” Oliver is quick to agree.

“But the Beta-scented soap, body wash, shampoo, conditioner, deodorant, and mothballs all stay. Going off the suppressants will potent up my scent that much more.”

Slade groans, of course there was a catch. Oliver Queen still needed to smell like a Beta.

Whatever, small victories, Slade would take what he could get.

“You and me, kid. Ready to take on your friends tomorrow?”

Oliver shifts his head to meet Slade’s gaze, brows furrowing.

“You’ve promised to behave, Slade,” Oliver states in a matter-of-fact tone.

Slade nudges his head into the side of Oliver’s neck, taking in his sweet, opulent scent.

He thinks the Omega took his heart a long time ago. Without Oliver he was void and empty.

“Oh, I intend to,” Slade states coyly.

Oliver rests his head back down on the pillow, arms folding over Slade’s.

“Just… stay like this with me,” Oliver says after a moment, stroking Slade’s arm.

“Okay, kid,” the Alpha softly responds.

_Yes_ , Slade thinks. There was good in his life.

xxxxxxxx

Slade—Oliver’s Alpha—looked about how John Diggle would expect him to, Dig running his eyes up and down the Alpha currently stood _very_ closely inside Oliver’s guard.

They were all in the basement of Verdant, Oliver recently having just shown with his Alpha in tow. The Omega had yet to say anything so Dig was left to draw his own conclusions.

Oliver was by no means an ‘easygoing’ Omega, and accordingly no Alpha that wasn’t at least as dominant as him, if not more so, would likely ever keep Oliver Queen occupied for long periods of time.

Stood next to Oliver, Slade clearly lacked Oliver’s height by a few centimetres. He was well built though, held himself with a stance that told Dig Slade was well-versed in the art of combat. A trained killer. Likely as good as Oliver if Slade taught him before. Nothing about Slade screamed that he knew how to use a bow though.

The man’s accent, from what Dig had heard over the phone, and Slade’s dark skin tone was the thing throwing Dig off. Not American, not British either. The name Slade… Dig had never heard it either.

Slade’s accent hinted at Australia but his skin tone looked too light for him to be an Aboriginal.

All of this information probably flies over Felicity’s head as Dig is analysing Slade.

Oliver wasn’t wearing any pheromone concealers either, the Omega would never simply just forget something like that. Without any chemical sprays, Dig could pick out the musky Alpha scent intertwined with Oliver’s own. It was on Slade too, and Diggle was old enough to know that scents mingling together so thoroughly like that could only be attributed to one thing.

Dig releases an exhale. This wasn’t really something he or Felicity could fight Oliver on. Whether Oliver and Slade had an entire Bond or just a pseudo. Oliver cared for Slade far more than his demeanor let on.

Felicity probably doesn’t see any of this though, likely didn’t even notice the difference in Oliver’s scent.

Oliver shifts on his feet, a nervous gesture, but Dig catches it.

“Felicity, Dig, this is Slade Wilson,” Oliver starts, gesturing his arms to Slade.

The Alpha inclines his head in nod.

“Slade, this is Felicity Smoak and John Diggle.”

Arms crossing over Oliver’s chest, Dig can tell the Omega is clearly concerned about how this was going to go.

A moment of silence passes between them.

Slade straightens up, clearing his throat; hands in his pockets.

“I feel like I should apologise for any trouble I’ve caused,” Slade states, eyes flitting over Diggle and Felicity.

Oliver shakes his head for a moment, looking taken aback before looking at Slade, realising it was he who had spoken.

“Don’t throw the kid under the bus just because of me, ok? He only did what he thought was right and readily doable, allowing him to potentially save the most lives. Evidentially he was correct in doing so, knocked the absolute shit outta me and got some sense back in there.”

The Alpha shrugs, and Diggle isn’t fully sure as to the full implication of his words.

Felicity’s chair squeaks beside Diggle.

“So yeah, blame me, not him,” Slade says, flicking his head in Oliver’s direction.

Oliver still looked at a loss for words, mouth slightly agape.

Felicity appears beside Diggle, leaning into the table alongside him.

Seeming to regain some composure, Oliver addresses his friends.

“So, yeah. What do you guys want to know? I hadn’t really decided on how to explain things, so I thought it might just be better if you ask and I try to answer.”

Sighing, Oliver hopes that was the right thing to say. He didn’t know how to start. Having Slade here didn’t exactly make things any easier to explain either.

To make matters worse, Felicity leans forward, like she was about ready to attack him.

Diggle beats her to talking though.

“Maybe it would be easier if you just started from the beginning. How did you two meet? Whatever you need to say to explain it best,” Diggle advises.

Felicity shakes her head, clearly displeased.

“Explain everything again,” Felicity urges.

“It’s pretty evident you were glossing over some details last time, Oliver.”

Guilt stabs Oliver in the chest when Felicity shoots him a nasty look.

“The less you guys say in between, the easier it’ll be to explain,” Oliver says, before realising he doesn’t know how to continue.

His eyes seek out the floor.

It’s a pleasant surprise to him then when Slade's voice fills the silence.

“‘Kid already told you this, but we met on Lian Yu while Oliver was shipwrecked there.”

Slade pauses for a second, as if awaiting any interruptions.

Oliver goes quiet, appreciating that Slade seemed to have thought about this more than he had. They hadn’t had much of a chance to talk since last night, but Slade being able to step up to the plate and explain things to his friends earned him brownie points with Oliver.

Now only if Oliver could get Slade to fuck him… like actually do so. That would be nice.

The left side of his face still stung, but the pain was manageable so Oliver was content to think nothing in his face had been shattered.

“As for what I was doing there,” Slade continued, “I was an intelligence officer who, along with my partner, was tasked with the retrieval and protection of a Chinese military general, Yao Fei, who’d—”

“—Wait, so you were a spy?” Felicity is quick to interject.

Scowling, Slade looks like he’s about to let out a deflated yes but the Beta cuts him off again.

“Oliver never mentioned this. I thought Lian Yu was supposed to be mostly deserted. What happened with your mission? Why did you and Oliver meet if you were supposed to be there on just ‘strictly business’?”

Confusion overrides the irritation on Felicity’s face, now looking like she was intent to hear what Slade and Oliver had to say, regardless of her annoyance towards the Omega.

Diggle remains silent, not as eager to interrupt.

Slade shakes his head, letting out a snort.

“None of the intricate details really matter. My partner betrayed me for the men trying to kill us and hold us hostage, I went into hiding; the man we were sent to retrieve—Yao Fei—was killed. All in that order too. Mission failed. Just about everyone on Lian Yu was killed, or died of their own accord.”

Perking up from listening to Slade, Oliver notices Felicity let out a small noise. Her mouth was set into a straight line and she looked almost sorry for asking. Diggle was more so impassive next to her, but the gears looked to be turning in his head.

The Omega exhales, this here is why he just told people he was alone on the island. Now the atmosphere in the room had changed, and he knew his friends would possibly look at him like he was fragile.

Oliver wills a blank mask onto his face to cover those emotions, wanting to know what and how Slade explained things. So far, he seemed better at it than Oliver did.

“Anyway…” Slade states, a tad of dominance to his voice like he was becoming irritated at being interrupted.

“Kid was lucky he wasn’t outright raped and killed. Oliver learnt to clog up his scent glands with dirt, masking his scent, early on. A fairly decent tactic, messes with the nose if you’re not sure what you’re looking for. None of that would have mattered though if Yao Fei—before he died—hadn’t decided to dump Oliver’s ass onto me.”

Releasing a snort, Oliver averts his gaze from Slade and his friends.

Slade resumes talking when Oliver doesn’t seem to want to make a snide comment.

“There was only ever one reliable way off the island, attempting to take a supply plane which came in every three months. I had planned to take it with Yao Fei, but… He would have never left. The mercenaries on the island were holding his daughter Shado hostage. So, as taking the airstrip was undoubtedly a two man job, I got meak, defenceless Omega dumped on me instead.”

Said Omega harrumphs.

“As if you didn’t actually need me,” Oliver half-jeers, taking a dig at Slade.

Slade responds by glaring daggers at the Omega, and both men seem to take a step forward so they’re up in each other’s faces.

“Are we really going to talk about who needed _who_?” Slade huffs, baring teeth at the Omega.

Oliver also grits his teeth.

“We can do it right now if you want, because I don’t remember ever being as useless as you’re making me about to be—”

One of Diggle or Felicity clears their throat in the background.

Alpha and Omega’s eyes both flicker over Felicity and Diggle, but otherwise remain close and irritated with one another.

“Evidently, you didn’t manage to take the supply plane and get off the island?” Diggle states, more than asks.

Oliver takes a step back from Slade, thinking better than to continue arguing with his Alpha when he was expecting Slade to explain what had previously happened between then.

His Alpha…?

_When did I_ —?

His hand curls into the side of his pant leg, almost wanting to reach out for Slade’s hand.

Maybe it was last night or something, because beforehand he doesn’t remember thinking of Slade as ‘his’.

He never would have thought to himself that he would ever refer to Slade Wilson as ‘his Alpha’.

Especially considering the rocky start they’d had together.

When Slade doesn’t immediately answer the other Alpha’s enquiry, Oliver wonders if Slade’s mind had drifted back to the same events his own did.

The first time Oliver went into heat around Slade and seemingly all those fears of his about Alphas were unearthed.


	9. Damage Control IV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back from my holiday, and here we go with flashback chapter two! This chapter is mostly what I wanted to do with _Before All That Passed for those_ of you who have read that and were wondering how Oliver and Slade’s encounters on the island went. Albeit, there are some differences between this and the original _BATP_ chapter I wrote.
> 
> Alas, here you go!

_Oliver doesn’t quite remember how it happened._

_One moment he was fine, working on trying to start a fire with rocks and kindling while Slade was out collecting their supper. And the next moment… it’s like his body suddenly remembered he was an Omega—Omegas went into into heat, whether they liked it or not—and he was doubled over with pain inside the fuselage._

_Amidst all the other hurt he felt—the bangs and bruises from Slade’s training, the scarring from the sword that psycho put through his abdomen—it’s the sensation like knives tearing open his gut that jolts Oliver back to awareness._

_Half-pulling himself up off the ground, Oliver mentally curses._

Fuck _, he’d forgotten after his last two heats—relatively uneventful ones, Yao Fei hardly seemed to care that he was an Omega—that his body would inevitably attempt to sabotage him again. Just like last time, the heat quietly snuck up on him, perfectly blending in with all the other physical ailments he was suffering from._

_Gritting his teeth, Oliver suppresses a cry of pain as best he can. Sweat was starting to trickle down his body, and although uncomfortable, it helped disguise the other feeling of wetness that would soon sticky the seat of his pants._

_That was one thing about not being on suppressants… His heats were still just as bad, but he produced so much more natural slick, like he was some prostitute-whore._

_A shiver runs through Oliver’s body, and not just because of the conflicting temperatures in his body._

_Slade’s scent—strong, dominating and musky that it was—tickled the inside of his nose._

_Running a hand over his face, Oliver determined he didn’t like this either. His sense of smell was far too strong for its own good when he was in heat. He didn’t want to be constantly harassed by Alpha scent; the smell of Slade did not cause him to go weak in the knees and make warmth pool in his stomach._

_Oliver staggers to his feet._

‘Can’t let Slade know about this.

_Despite the fact that he might have somewhat trusted Slade—they needed each other to try and get off the island—he didn’t trust an Alpha around him in heat._

_Dirt and leaves would hide his scent and clog up his scent glands. Only to an extent though. When he was right on heat, there’d be no way of hiding his dynamic from an Alpha._

_Maneuvering his way outside the dilapidated plane on unsteady legs, Oliver notices the sun riding low in the sky, disappearing behind the canopy of trees._

_There was going to be no light out soon and Slade still wasn’t back._

_Teeth bite into his lower lip._

_Had something happened to Slade? The Alpha couldn’t be dead, could he? But what if Fyers’ men had found Slade?_

_There was no way Oliver was naive enough to think he could survive on his own without the man._

_Twiddling his thumbs, Oliver thinks to himself maybe he shouldn’t leave. Even though he was desperate to leave the fuselage and not have Slade come back to find him in heat, it was getting dark out and he had nowhere else to go. What if Slade came back wounded and needed his help?_

_Squashing his distrust of Alphas, Oliver collapses onto the ground outside the plane, waiting._

_Eventually, Oliver is lulled into an uneasy dozing state by the afternoon cool and an inability to keep his eyes open._

_He doesn’t know how much time passes, but when he’s next awoken by the heavy footfalls of boots, Oliver’s in more discomfort than he was before._

_Half-startling awake, Oliver goes to sit up fully—eyes trying to adjust to the dark around him—yet doesn’t quite make it there before he releases a low whine._

_His gut seared with pain, slick certainly dripping out of him, and his nose was practically twitching at the scent of Alpha._

_Squinting his eyes—attempting to focus through the pain—, Oliver looks up to notice Slade standing before him, large and intimidating._

_Slade’s head is turned to one side, seemingly not noticing Oliver despite standing right in front of him._

_The Omega scuffles on the ground, dirt kicking up around him, as he pushes himself up against the side of the plane._

_“Slade…” Oliver murmurs, slightly concerned._

_As if awoken from a trance, Slade suddenly faces him with bared teeth and a fire burning in his eyes._

_Almost instantly, Slade’s fist is curled into the front of his shirt and Oliver is yanked towards him._

_A small yelp of surprise escapes Oliver but his hands instantly curl around the fist Slade has on him._

_“Do you think maybe you should have told me about this?!” Slade barks in Oliver’s face._

_His nostrils were flaring like a well-worked horse._

_Oliver wonders whether that was just because he was furious or was trying to force out and expel any of Oliver’s pheromones he might have inhaled._

_Rather than cowering, Oliver finds himself swallowing around the lump of fear and pain in his throat. He was irritated now. The only reason he was still here right now—and not off hiding in the forests—was because he was worried about Slade!_

_“Why should I have, if you were just going to act like this?!” Oliver spits, brows furrowing._

_Slade’s dagger-like gaze seems to waver from Oliver’s own for a moment, before the Alpha shakes his head and growls._

_“Well, maybe if you said something I wouldn’t have this_ fuckin’ _reaction. I had my suspicions since the beginning, but I didn’t actually think you’d be dumb enough to lie about something like this!”_

_“I didn’t lie!” Oliver retorts, “There was just no damn way I was telling you the truth, ‘let you feel like you fully owned me or something and I was reliant on you. I don’t want anything to do with you!”_

_A sliver of something—guilt?—stabs through Oliver’s chest as he snorts, then is forced to inhale._

_The Alpha’s scent was wrapped around him and blanked the fuselage. Though he really wanted to turn his nose up at the older man’s smell, he couldn’t bring himself to hate it. It was like his chest fluttered with excitement at actually being able to smell an Alpha without any form of scent concealment blocking it out._

_He didn’t like it. It felt like the scent was clogging up the inside of his brain, disorienting him._

_Giving Oliver a light shake with his fist, Slade snarls._

_“You better watch your mouth, kid. Whether you like it or not, your ass is reliant on me to survive. What makes you think I want anything to do with you either.”_

_Taking another dig at Oliver, Slade’s expression loosens slightly when Oliver doesn’t immediately spark back._

_Oliver’s hands around Slade’s slacken and his head droops back slightly in Slade’s grasp._

_Glaring at Oliver, Slade finds that any anger in the Omega’s eyes suddenly seemed to have vanished._

_Fisting both of his hands into Oliver’s shirt, Slade heaves Oliver forward and half-off the ground._

_“Don’t you go all fuckin’ high and weird on me now, Oliver,” Slade demands, giving the Omega a jolt._

_Groaning, Oliver responds by pushing his hands into the side’s of Slade’s arms and meeting the Alpha’s eyes._

_“Leave me alone,” Oliver says, quietly._

_Growling once again, Slade finds himself becoming flustered._

_“How long you been in heat for, boy?” Slade questions, trying to remove the irritation from his voice._

“Hhggh?”

_Only a noise halfway between a cry of pain and confusion escapes Oliver._

_Shaking his head, Slade simply pulls the Omega fully to his feet, still keeping a tight grip on his top with one arm._

_As Slade begins to tug him back into the fuselage, Oliver sparks in his grip._

_A burst of strength surges through Oliver as he realises Slade is dragging him back to the plane. Digging his heels into the dirt, Oliver flails and tries to break Slade’s grip on him._

_“Damnit, stop it, kid,” Slade growls, yanking Oliver in his direction._

_Losing his balance, Oliver falls to the ground on his knees._

_Slade doesn’t let up though, immediately pulling Oliver to his feet again._

_Fear runs through Oliver’s body like blood, replacing the vigour he had previously felt._

_The Alpha smelt good…_

_Hair whips into either side of Oliver’s face. But he couldn’t let this happen! He would not let himself be taken and used!_

_“If you take advantage of me, I’ll never forgive you, Slade!” Oliver shrieks, throwing himself backwards out of Slade’s grasp._

_His lackluster strength isn’t enough to prevent Slade from tugging him into the fuselage though._

_Oliver whines,_ fuck _, this was it!_

_What his father had warned him about, that one day he’d get raped if he didn’t conceal his dynamic._

_Instantly, Oliver wonders if the less he struggled… would it be easier that way?_

_“Shut it, kid!” Slade rumbles, free hand wrapping around the back of Oliver’s neck._

_Oliver can’t help that his body goes limp at Slade’s manhandling._

_He was in shock, sweat tricking down his forehead and cheeks._

_His mind told him_ submit if you don’t want to get hurt.

_Hauling Oliver forward, Slade deposits the Omega onto a chair at one end of the fuselage._

_Without protest from Oliver, Slade pulls the collar on the Omega’s shirt down and begins running gloved hands under the fabric and over his shoulders._

_“What are you d-d-doing!” Oliver stutters out._

_Slade’s fingers slide off his body and the Alpha drags his hands over his face, groaning._

_“_ Fuck. _Your Alpha hasn’t bitten and fully Bonded you, have they? Your scent would possibly be less noticeable if they had,” Slade sighs, beginning to pace the fuselage._

_“I d-d-dont… I don’t have an Alpha,” Oliver states meekly, shaking his head._

_“What?!” Slade half-hisses, face now up beside Oliver’s._

_The Omega squirms, turning his face away from Slade._

_“What about that girl in the picture you always look at!”_

_Oliver avoids Slade’s gaze, doing his best to breathe through his nose._

_“Kid? What’s up?” Concern seeps into Slade’s voice but Oliver doesn’t bother to look his way._

_“You’re acting like you’ve never been around an Alpha whilst you were in heat before.”_

_“Nooo… Stay away from me!” Oliver cries._

_“Fuck’s sake,” Slade curses._

_The footfall of boots on the ground hinted Slade was moving away from Oliver._

_Albeit scared, Oliver darts off the chair the moment Slade seemed to have turned his back on him._

_Slade instantly is aware of his escape attempt though, turning around on his heel and blocking Oliver’s path._

_Arms outstretched, Slade practically catches Oliver as the Omega rams straight into him._

_It immediately allows Slade to curl his arms around Oliver’s shoulders, forcing him back to the chair._

_“Stay put,” Slade demands, before revealing something in one hand Oliver had yet to take notice of._

_Shaking, Oliver is sure he visually pales when Slade drapes a line of rope onto Oliver’s lap._

_He’s paralysed with fear, and so Oliver remains dead quiet as Slade awkwardly binds him to the chair. Rope traps his wrists around the back of the chair, denying an easy escape._

_Running a hand over his nose, Slade pants as he’s finished his work._

_There was something sympathetic in Slade’s eyes and Oliver hoped that was a sign that the Alpha wasn’t going to go through with… whatever he was planning._

_Slade unravels the scarf-like thing around his neck, before pulling the fabric up around his mouth and nose._

_Oliver shakes his head, releasing a heavy exhale as his pelvis felt like a knife was being pushed through it._

_Slade sighs—what was that about?—before gripping a hand around Oliver’s chin._

_The Omega flinches away at the contact._

_"You need to stay put," Slade states, looking Oliver dead in the eyes._

_Dark eyes were barely visible on Slade’s face, but Oliver knew from the Alpha’s tone of voice that this wasn’t a request._

_"I'm going to scout the perimeters. I expect you to be here when I get back."_

_As Slade releases his face and straightens up, Oliver refrains from making an unnecessary comment, confidence returning to him when it didn’t Slade was_ currently _going to do anything to him._

_Like where the hell did Slade expect him to go? He’d already ensured he was tied up._

_Picking up a relatively large sized firearm—which Oliver assumed was a submachine gun—, Slade strides out into the opening of the fuselage._

_“Don't try anything, kid,” Slade calls._

_The Alpha shoots Oliver one last look, before Slade ducks out of the fuselage and back into the night._

_Confusion racks Oliver’s brain at Slade’s actions but he immediately begins to struggle in his bindings._

_Eventually, Oliver dislocates his left thumb again, realising that this was the fastest way he was going to get free._

_After Oliver shimmies his wrists up the chair so that the rope was no longer around it, he unwraps it from his wrists and makes a break for it outside the fuselage._

_It’s dark, Oliver can barely see, but he bolts into the nearest cluster of forest and doesn’t stop running._

_He doesn’t know how long he runs for. Pain wracks Oliver’s head, stomach, and now his thumb, however Oliver knew it was insignificant pain compared to what would happen if he let an Alpha get to him._

_Not really caring where he was going, it shocks Oliver then when his boot splashes into water._

_Stopping suddenly, Oliver takes a moment to evaluate his surroundings, noticing his boots were now submerged in cold water._

_Moonlight illuminated the area here and Oliver could tell that this was the lake of water that two streams connected up into. Oliver had been washed into here from the far side when Yao Fei dumped him into the stream that would send him in Slade’s direction. On the far side of the lake there was a waterfall._

_Behind the waterfall though, there was a small opening in the rocks that Oliver had been swept into when he’d been dumped down the falls._

_Yao Fei’s words echoed in his head._

You want to live, you will mask your scent. The earth, dirt and leaves will help. You put it over your scent glands, you will produce less of a scent. Water will wash it away though. But rain and water is good, we have a harder time smelling through water. If you must hide, submerge yourself in water.

_Silently thanking the Alpha, Oliver began to wade into the water, sure that this was the best chance he had of hiding whilst he was in heat._

_Water rushed up his pant legs and the steady push of the stream threatened to drag him down the river._

_The cold almost felt nice over his hot, irritated skin but Oliver disregarded it, immediately diving into the deep end of the water._

_Kicking and paddling, Oliver tries to keep his head above water as he forces his body in the opposite direction the stream was trying to push him._

_Hair falls into his face and Oliver mentally curses himself for ever allowing it to get this long._

_He couldn’t see too well but eventually water crashes down on Oliver’s back and the Omega flings himself forward._

_Smearing hair out of his face, Oliver notices it was dark around him and the water here was mostly still._

_Palming out in front of him and finding a rocky surface there, Oliver heaves himself up onto it, realising he’d made his way into the opening behind the cave._

_Oliver collapses onto the small ledge, shivering, but at least he was probably safe now._

_Water clung to his clothes and hair; the last of his energy had been very well spent on just trying to get away and hide from Slade or any other Alphas who might have stumbled upon him._

_Exhausted, Oliver finds himself falling asleep to the roaring of the waterfall outside._

xxxxxxxx

_It must be around dawn when Oliver stumbles into the plane the next day, Slade seemingly still asleep on his cot._

_He’s still shivering—bloody freezing at that—but the haze of pain settled over his mind and body that was brought on by his heat looked to have passed._

_Coughing and spluttering, Oliver slumps down on his cot, not even bothering to get under the covers._

_Oliver felt like shit even though he’d just slept for the last few hours. It hadn’t been a good sleep though. His head and thumb still ached._

_With barely any energy to move, Oliver decided to try and sleep until Slade next woke him._

_As Oliver falls asleep, Slade rolls over on his own cot and gets up, not having wanted to disturb the Omega when he walked in._

_Slade was concerned, Oliver had been hacking and sneezing when he walked in. His scent was faint too, it wasn’t as potent or enticing as it had been when the Omega was in heat._

_Where had Oliver gone during the night? The Alpha had tried to track him but Oliver’s scent disappeared by the stream._

_At least Oliver had made his way back on his own though, Slade hadn’t gotten much sleep wondering if the Omega had gotten himself raped or killed._

_Creeping over from the far end of the fuselage, Slade goes to check on the Omega, Oliver’s back currently turned to him._

_Up close, Slade could tell the Omega was soaked. His hair clung to his face which had a slight purple tinge to it around his lips and Oliver’s teeth chattered slightly._

_Part of Slade wants to frown at the Omega’s stupidity. What if he got damn pneumonia or something because of this? A greater part of Slade is impressed though._

_It’s difficult to smell anything submerged in water, Oliver must have known that and drenched himself to try and hide his scent._

_As Oliver releases a cough, Slade feels slightly guilty. Maybe tieing the kid up to try and protect him wasn’t the right call..._

_Reaching a hand out to touch Oliver’s shoulder, Slade doesn’t think he can pry Oliver’s shirt off him without actually waking him. The last thing Slade needed now was for Oliver to freak and try to bolt again. So Oliver’s soaking wet clothes would probably have to stay on him until the Omega next awoke of his own accord._

_Grabbing a bucket, Slade returns with it to the Omega._

_Oliver doesn’t seem to startle when Slade grabs part of his hair, lightly trying to wring it out into the bucket. Water splatters out of the Omega’s hair and Slade tries to do the same with the longest bits of his hair._

_Slade grimaces when the Omega’s teeth still chattered in his sleep. He must have been freezing and Slade didn’t know what much more to do._

_Returning to the other side of the fuselage, Slade grabs the sheet-like fabric from his cot, seeing as he wasn’t going to attempt rolling Oliver off his own._

_He goes to drape the blankets over the Omega but then, something stops Slade. Like he would feel_ really _fucking bad if Oliver were to die._

_Laying a hand on Oliver, the Omega doesn’t seem to stir but his body shivers under Slade’s touch. Waiting for a moment, Slade then leans over on his side next to the Omega._

_Throwing the sheets over the other side of Oliver, Slade makes sure they’re covering Oliver before wrapping his arm around Oliver’s side._

_Oliver’s back was damp against Slade’s front, yet the Omega’s shivering seemed to somewhat lessen as soon as Slade was pressed up against his back._

_The Alpha’s not really sure what he’s doing but chalks it up to not wanting the kid to die or anything._

xxxxxxxx

_It’s dark when Oliver awakens late into the afternoon. A fire is burning in the fuselage and Oliver is no longer soaking wet nor shivering._

_He still feels slightly cold and his thumb ached from where he’d popped it out of place but the pain was manageable._

_When Oliver arises from his cot, Slade doesn’t say anything as to where the Omega had been or that he’d been in heat. ‘Didn’t even offer an apology or anything about the fact that he might have been considering rapeing him._

_Slade simply tends to the fire across from him, offering Oliver dinner and not mentioning the day before._

_Oliver isn’t sure whether or not this means he can trust Slade._

_The next day he and Slade are back to the normal agenda. He’s covered up his scent again; Slade set their traps around the place, and then the Alpha proceeded to kick the shit out of him in what he believed constituted ‘training’._

_When Slade smacks his bamboo stick against the side of Oliver’s left hand, the Omega practically howls. Dropping his sticks, Oliver cradles his hand towards his stomach._

Dammit _; teeth bite into his lower lip._

_That was his thumb, it still hadn’t healed and set back into place yet. The last time he dislocated his thumb it hadn’t hurt as much. Maybe it hadn’t been as far out last time?_

_“Did you dislocate your thumb again?” Slade asks with a growl._

_Shaking his head, Oliver scowls at the Alpha._

_“No—”_

_“—Bullshit,” Slade berates._

_Feeling slightly guilty, Oliver tries to divert his gaze from Slade._

Stupid Alpha, making me dislocate my thumb in the first place!

_Out of his peripheral vision, Oliver notices the Alpha’s approach._

_“This is not a game, kid! The day after tomorrow you have to be ready to help me take that airstrip—”_

_“—I’m fine!” Oliver cries, dropping his hand back down to his side._

_“But you’re not!”_

_Disregarding his bamboo sticks, Slade yanks Oliver’s left hand into his grip._

_Oliver whimpers, letting out a cry of pain._

_Slade analyses his thumb, picking out the black-blue bruising starting to form on it, and the way part of the joint could be felt protruding out to the right._

_The Alpha scowls, nostrils flaring._

_“This has to go back in the brace. You’ve actually popped the joint out this time. Could take one-two—maybe even more—weeks before it re-sets. You’re lucky it’s not your dominant hand—”_

_“—I don’t need it,” Oliver interrupts, going to pull his hand out of Slade’s._

_Immediately Slade’s hand crushes around his own, preventing his escape._

_He wishes he didn’t but Oliver makes several yelps._

_“Your left hand’s out, kid. And you’re trying to tell me you can fight with just your right? Not in a million years.”_

_“I can do it,” Oliver states through gritted teeth._

_“No!” Slade growls back at him, face getting up close to Oliver’s._

_Finally, Slade releases Oliver’s hand and the Omega wraps his right one around it._

_“Plan B. There’s no way I can trust you to take the airstrip like this.”_

_Snorting, Slade begins to wander away from their training grounds._

_Confused, Oliver stumbles after him._

_“Wait! What? What’s Plan B? Are we not going or—”_

_Slade whirls around to face him, halting Oliver’s advance._

_The Alpha jabs a finger into his chest._

_“Wash, now. Get that dirt masking off of you.”_

_“What? No—” Oliver goes to protest._

_“—Do it!” Slade cuts him off._

_“Go and wash yourself, trainings over today. And don’t get lost either.”_

_Uncertain of Slade’s intentions but knowing he’d disappointed the Alpha, Oliver willingly obliges._

_Oliver takes the most thorough shower he thinks he’s had in weeks down at the waterfall. Scrubbing all the dirt and muck off his body, Oliver felt surprisingly naked when his sweet scent reached his nose._

_He refrains from covering it up though as he proceeds back to the fuselage. He didn’t want Slade any more angry with him than the Alpha already was._

_When Oliver wanders back into the plane, he can feel Slade’s eyes immediately on him._

_Slade gets up from the floor._

_The Omega remains deathly still as Slade jerks him forward by the collar, Slade shoving his nose in beside Oliver’s throat._

_Inhaling, Slade releases a low, rumbling growl._

_Trying not to squirm, Oliver simply holds his breath instead. Not liking how Slade’s musky Alpha scent tickled up the insides of his nose._

_“Good, you have a scent,” Slade approves._

_Though to what end Oliver doesn’t know._

_After what seems like forever, Slade pulls back and walks away from him._

_“You’re going to stay like that today and tomorrow.”_

_“What? Why? I can’t! I cover up my scent for a reason you know!” Oliver immediately begins to protest._

_The Alpha shakes his head._

_“Well this is for a reason too, kid.”_

_Oliver practically seethes, hands drawing into fists at his side._

_“You’re always complaining that I’m going to give us both away, and now you’re telling me not to cover up my scent?!”_

_Releasing a growl, Slade bares his teeth at the Omega._

_“As long as you don’t run off and do as I say, you_ won’t _give us both away. Shut up and do as I say if you want to get off this island alive, kid.”_

_No more is said on the topic, and Oliver begrudgingly leaves his scent unmasked for the next two days._

xxxxxxxx

_On the morning that they’re supposed to set out across the island to venture towards the airstrip, Slade makes Oliver take another bath._

_The Omega does so, not knowing Slade’s intentions but not liking it either way. Slade had yet to do anything to Oliver that would constitute taking advantage of him, so maybe part of Oliver was just wishfully thinking everything would turn out alright._

_They camp out in the forest during the night, and while it’s still dark out in the morning, Slade leads Oliver towards the airstrip._

_Spying over a large tree root, Oliver takes in the tower and lights flickering in the distance._

_“Why are we so far away?” Oliver whispers to the Alpha beside him._

_There was at least one hundred and fifty metres between them and the area that marked the beginning of the airstrip._

_“‘Wind’s blowing in this direction, but that could change at any moment. We’ve got to act fast,” Slade states, looking the epitome of stoic._

_“What are we doing?” Oliver asks._

_“Am I going to try and take out the guard in—”_

_“—No!” Slade hushes, and Oliver immediately grows quiet._

_Slade huffs, blowing air out his nose._

_“Your job is to get that one guard out of that tower. Not kill him. You leave that to me. The moment you’ve lured him out, I can—”_

_“—What the hell?” Oliver immediately begins to protest._

_“And how am I supposed to lure the soldier out of the tower without him killing me?”_

_The Alpha turns to face him and looks Oliver dead in the eyes._

_“With your scent,” Slade says, almost coldly._

_A stone drops in the pit of Oliver’s stomach and his blood runs cold._

_“No_ fucking _way,” Oliver spits._

_“How is this supposed to work any better than me just killing that one soldier? You want to like use me as live bait or something and hope I don’t get raped and killed? No, no—you don’t care. It doesn’t matter if I die, so long as I’ve done my part and you can get off the island—”_

_Slade shoving his elbow into the Omega’s ribs cuts Oliver off, causing Oliver to let out a whine._

_Falling onto his side, Oliver has to brace his fall with his injured hand which only causes him to release another pained cry._

_“That,” Slade starts as the Omega pulls himself up off the ground, “is why I severely doubt you’d be able to take out the tower guard in one go. Even without that dislocated thumb of yours I’d still have my doubts. I don’t trust you with a gun either. Too much could go wrong with just trying to have you gut that solider. If you let him radio camp, we’d both be done. Our ticket out of here would turn around and then Fyer’s would get word of our likely whereabouts. You and I would both die shortly afterwards kid, ‘you understand?”_

_Squatting back down next to Slade, Oliver nods his head._

_He didn’t like Slade’s words, but also couldn’t deny that he probably wouldn’t be able to intentionally kill someone._

_“What do you want me to do?” Oliver sighs, admitting defeat._

_His left hand was still in a brace, they’d have to do this Slade’s ‘revised’ way._

_“Where we are now,” Slade explains, “We’re lined up with the tower the guard is in. This is important, because as long as you move into the area from this angle—and the wind is still blowing away from us—,you should be able to move in relatively undetected.”_

_“Relatively…?” Oliver questions, uncertain._

_The Alpha shakes his head._

_“I’m asking you to use your scent to create a diversion so that the guards will take notice of you, hopefully causing a small commotion, and thus drawing the tower guard out. I say ‘relatively’ undetected, because if we play this right, by time you’ve lured the tower guard out, I should be done with all the other guards not currently near us.”_

_With two fingers, Slade points out a cluster of shrub in front of them. A massive dead tree stood in the middle of it._

_“That tree there is where I want you to be and wait for at least five minutes after I leave. Once those five minutes is up, make your way into the camp and be sure to alert the soldiers closest to the tower of your presence. Whatever you do, don’t attempt to run away. If you do, then you’re at a liability of getting shot.”_

_A nervous smile creeps across Oliver’s face at how dead serious the Alpha’s tone of voice was._

_Slade continually stares off ahead of them._

_“Yeah, that’s all well and good, Slade,” Oliver awkwardly laughs, scratching the back of his head._

_The Omega’s tone immediately hardens though._

_“But what if these soldiers don’t care about the fact that I’m an Omega? What if they don’t think I smell good? What if they just see me as an intruder and straight up kill me? Huh? What’s the workaround for that one, Slade? Are you going to suggest I walk out naked now?”_

_Slade’s eyes never move from looking out in front of them, seemingly oblivious to Oliver’s concerns._

_“They won’t,” the Alpha gruffly responds._

_“Fyers’ men wouldn’t have seen an Omega in months. ‘Probably wouldn’t know what to do with you. They’d be stupid if they tried to kill yah.”_

_Swallowing around a lump in his throat, Oliver tries to believe the Alpha’s words, but doesn’t want to think that maybe he was nothing more than a piece of meat in Slade’s mind as well._

_At least if he did this he could get home. What did it matter, as long as he didn’t die trying?_

_Rising to his feet, Slade tightens his hand over the strap holding his sniper rifle._

_“We’ve been here for too long as it is. Can I trust you to do this, kid?”_

_Pulling himself up, Oliver nods, sure Slade wouldn’t accept any other response._

_“Good,” Slade approves, “I’m heading out now, so you move towards that tree._ Five minutes _, no sooner, no less, you better be making your way down there. If you don’t do this kid, there’s no other way off the island. We’re both done for.”_

_Giving Oliver a long, hard stare, Slade doesn’t wait for the Omega to respond before trudging his way around the perimeter of the landing bay._

_Waiting until Slade disappeared from his sight, Oliver then crept up behind the big tree._

_It was quiet, wind whipped Oliver’s hair into his face. The Omega slowly counted to three hundred in his head._

_When Oliver assumes five lots of sixty seconds to have elapsed, he wills his legs to move him forward._

_He doesn’t think—can’t—simply has to do this._

_Leaves and undergrowth squelch under his foot as Oliver nears the clearing of the trees._

_On his left there’s the tower, stretching up out of view, and on his right, two or three soldiers stand watch. They haven’t appeared to have seen him or caught wiff of his scent yet._

_Fearing that maybe he’d waited by the tree for longer than five minutes, Oliver stumbles out into the clearing._

_The soldiers in front of him notice him immediately, turning to face him but their guns are lowered at the grounds._

_“Hi—” Oliver starts nervously, but is promptly cut off._

“Ōumǐjiā! Ōumǐjiā!”

_Something slamming into the side of Oliver would have caused him to yelp, but he’s immediately eating dirt._

_Hands curl into his hair, heaving him up off the ground and Oliver hears yelling and commotion around him. They speak in languages and words Oliver doesn’t understand._

_Oliver doesn’t know what’s going on but keeps his eyes lowered towards the ground. There was no steel or gun barrel pointed at his head. Keeping it that way was the only way Oliver saw he was going to survive._

Submit if you don’t want to get hurt, _those words continually echoed in Oliver’s mind._

_The man—Alpha—holding Oliver by his collar up towards his chest appears to be barking orders. Disgruntled voices in the background don’t seem to be obeying though._

_Albeit the grip around Oliver was loose—only one of the man’s hands was trained up around his throat, the other was almost possessively wrapped into his hair—the Omega knew he had to wait._

_Where was Slade?!_

_Metal clanging—footsteps—alerts Oliver to slide his eyes along the ground to find another pair of legs jogging over from the tower. The tower guard, Oliver hopes._

_He has to resist the urge to want to shove his fingers up his nostrils. There were too many damn Alphas around him, the smell was suffocating. It was like gasoline, Oliver knew he shouldn’t like it—didn’t like it—but there was a certain chemical in an Alpha’s scent he liked. His Omega biology found it enticing, it was like being around Tommy for too long periods of time where Oliver knew he should have reapplied his Beta deodorants but didn’t._

_More voices around him, they’re evidently talking about him._

_Despite the fact that he’s shaking, the hand on his head pets and curls through his hair. It’s revolting, and the breaths that ghost down his throat with it._

_His body felt dirty just having a hand curled over his collarbone, but his mind told him the moment he showed any hostility he’d only be killed. Or worse._

_Oliver’s ears perk up when he thinks the soldiers are speaking Chinese. He’d heard Yao Fei speak similar words before._

“Tā jiǎng yīngyǔ.”

_The Alpha holding him snarls, pulling his hand out of Oliver’s hair and sliding a knife out from somewhere. It’s small, but Oliver still flinches when the Alpha waves it about threateningly in front of him._

_“I’m aware, Beta,” the Alpha barks, “Now back off!”_

_Trying to remain still and seemingly docile, Oliver hears a sigh._

_“If he’s Fyers’, you’re going to get it,” someone says defeatedly._

_Oliver is promptly flung forward, like he’s been dropped onto his side. A hand was still curled over his shoulder though. Through parted hair, he notices his captor beginning to stand up._

_“I don’t give a damn about Fyer’s! You Betas don’t know—”_

_A sound that could be mistaken for gravel being trod on and flying up goes off near Oliver._

_Yells travel around him—some in English, some not—and a weight falls across Oliver’s body._

_Something showers onto Oliver’s back and hair, and he knows there’s likely no mistaking it’s blood._

_He immediately begins to scramble out from underneath the Alpha’s body, spotting the clearing back into the forest._

“Zhuā zhù tā!” _someone practically screams._

_The same gravelly, muffled sound follows the man’s cry, instantly silencing him._

Gunshots _, Oliver thinks to himself,_ those are gunshots.

_They’re not loud or earsplitting though, they were quieter somehow._

_Rolling the Alpha’s body off him, Oliver gets to his feet and darts for the trees._

_Dirt erupts in front of him, something shooting into the ground. Oliver immediately goes dead still, knowing that must have been a bullet that just landed in the earth._

_His heart’s pounding in his chest and the Omega has no idea whether to risk running for the foliage. He’d just been shot at! Would he be killed if he moved?!_

_Remaining immobile aside from his trembles, Oliver waits._

_Grumbling and the sound of footsteps behind him does little to ease the Omega’s worries._

_“Do you have to always run, kid? ‘Make me waste an extra bullet just because I don’t want to have to chase after your ass again.”_

_Whirling around on his heel, Oliver is unsurprised to find Slade there but can’t help that he flinches at the man’s presence._

_Slade stops in front of him, readjusting the gun slung over his back._

_“What’s up with you?”_

_Blinking, Oliver quickly smears tears out of his eyes, not realising they were there._

_“Don’t act like you care about me,” Oliver glowers, straightening up._

_The Alpha appears to bristle in front of him, showing teeth._

_“If I didn’t care, I wouldn’t ask,” Slade says with a hint of bite to his voice, “Now come on, we’ve wasted enough time as it is.”_

_Flicking his head to one side, Slade goes to turn in that direction._

_“No,” Oliver states sternly, shaking his head and remaining rooted to the spot._

_“And why not?”_

_Dark eyes bore into Oliver._

_Oliver quashes down his fears, irritation burning in him._

_“You know you don’t fucking own me right? I don’t care that you technically do all the hard work, and that you cook, trap, and hunt. Just because I’m reliant on you doesn’t mean you can treat me however you want. Don’t act like you care either. You wouldn’t have cared if those soldiers raped me, you probably would do so yourself. You’re no better than those soldiers. You only knew they’d react the way they did because you’re just like them!”_

_Slade snarls, fire burning behind his eyes._

_“If I’m just like those men then, why haven’t I raped you?” Slade spits._

_The Omega huffs, feeling flustered, but not wanting to back down from this argument,_

_“I don’t know…” Oliver admits._

_“But Yao Fei didn’t treat me this way! Yao Fei didn’t treat me like shit, the way you do! He saved my life but wasn’t always acting like I had to repay him or something—”_

_“—Yao Fei wasn’t always having to save your hide and attempting to scalp you into something useful so you could get off this damn island. Which if you haven’t noticed, our ticket out of here will be here soon,” Slade finishes, gesturing towards the tower and the airstrip._

_Oliver shakes, feeling as if he was filled to the brim with emotion._

_The Alpha was telling him there was no way Oliver would get off this island without him and all Oliver wanted to do was practically get away from him._

_“I don’t care!” Oliver yells, “I’m not leaving without Yao Fei. I can't leave Yao Fei here to die because he didn’t when I needed it. You can stay here, I don’t care!”_

_Going to trudge off in the direction they came from, Oliver hisses at the Alpha when Slade wraps a hand around his forearm._

_“You will die if you go out there, kid. Think! Use your head for once,” Slade berates._

_His grip is punishingly hard on Oliver’s arm but the Omega yanks himself out of it, uncaring._

_“I have to do this,” Oliver states sternly, looking the Alpha dead in the eyes._

_“I don’t care if you agree with it or not. You don’t own me.”_

_Not waiting to see the Alpha’s reaction to his words, Oliver promptly flings himself away from Slade, darting back off into the forest._

_After Oliver runs off, Slade remains in the one spot for a while. Thinking the Omega had to come back, he didn’t actually have the spine to try and get into Fyer’s encampment. Did he…?_

_Time passes, too much time, and Oliver still hasn’t come back yet when Slade next checks his watch._

_Gathering up his things, Slade makes to follow in Oliver’s direction._

_He didn’t even know when the plane was supposed to land but he’d better get Oliver back here with him._

xxxxxxxx

Well, _Oliver thinks to himself after he’s finished dishing up Slade’s anti-infective herbs,_ things turned out some approximation of ‘ok’.

_Concealing his scent again, Oliver had been able to infiltrate Fyers’ encampment with little effort spent. Turns out Yao Fei wasn’t too keen on leaving the island though, ‘someone’ was keeping him there, and the Alpha hadn’t meant Fyers._

_Slade—as if aware Oliver was about to get executed by his ex-partner—had shown up however. Oliver would begrudgingly admit he needed the rescue but also had no intentions of saying that to the Alpha’s face._

_He’d been hoping to get off the island, take Yao Fei along with him—the only Alpha that seemed to be an actual, decent person here. But no, here Oliver was back in the fuselage, stranded again with no way off the island. Stuck with dickhead Alpha Slade Wilson._

_At least Slade couldn’t claim he was totally useless anymore. If he hadn’t been there when Fyers shot at Slade, the Beta might have done more than just put a bullet in his arm. The Omega was quietly proud of himself, he managed to get it out of Slade without puking._

_When he was helping Slade back to the fuselage as well, he’d managed to take out a stray soldier they’d encountered, dislocated left thumb and all._

_Despite not getting off the island, Slade claimed Oliver might actually have a chance of surviving here now. Although that was technically a compliment, Oliver still wasn’t too impressed with the Alpha._

_But he got another thank you out of the older man when Oliver brought back the herbs today from Yao Fei’s cave that Slade’s infected bullet wound needed._

_Retiring to his side of the plane, Oliver decided to settle on ignoring the Alpha. In the meantime, while Slade was mostly on bedrest, the Alpha wouldn’t be able to bully him into doing whatever he wanted._

_“You’re stupid, you know that right, kid,” Slade calls almost immediately._

_Oliver remains facing the opposite direction, trying to give the impression he didn’t care for the Alpha’s words._

_“Yeah well,” Oliver starts, swallowing around a lump in his throat, “This stupid kid saved your life, you know.”_

_Slade groans in the background, yet it doesn’t tempt Oliver to want to check on him._

_“No, not today. I’m talking about yesterday.”_

_A thudding on the ground alerts Oliver to the Alpha’s movement. Guess Slade wasn’t totally bedridden after all._

_“You walked into Fyers’ encampment—full of Alphas—,with only a thin layer of dirt and mud keeping your dynamic a secret from them. Do you know how dangerous that was?”_

_The Alpha hisses the words but Oliver only hears Slade patronising him._

_“Oh yeah, well what would you have suggested? That I walk in there with no concealment on at all and let everyone know that they’re free to rape me?”_

_Behind him, Oliver hears Slade make a disgruntled noise and then sound like he’s moving away from him._

_Surprisingly then, the Alpha flops down beside him on the floor._

_He has to refrain from letting his expression show just how irritated he felt._

_“That was wrong, kid. I’ll admit that,” Slade acknowledges, meeting Oliver’s eyes._

_Oliver doesn’t let Slade keep his gaze for too long though, not sure if that’s sympathy in the Alpha’s eyes or not._

_Those dark eyes were hard to read and Oliver wishes his own weren’t so easy._

_“I should have left it to you to decide whether or not you thought you could take out the tower guard. You got the job done at luring him out, but admittedly you were uncomfortable doing it.”_

_The Omega absentmindedly scratches himself, things didn’t quite all make sense to him._

_“But wait. Why did you tie me up to the chair when I went into heat, seeing as you obviously seemed to know how it would make me feel?” Oliver asks, honestly but sternly._

_A hand from the Alpha thumped across Oliver’s back, almost playfully._

_“To protect you, dumbass. You fuckin’ ran off anyway though. But at least you seemed to avoid any trouble. That was lucky. In future though, if you run off, I will follow you. I’m a damned good tracker. Don’t do that hiding in the water shit either, those herbs might not help you fight off a nasty pneumonia.”_

_Somehow a grin slides onto Oliver’s face as he scratches the back of his head._

_“Didn’t know you cared so much, Slade.”_

_Slade simply growls and shakes his head._

_“This isn’t a joke, kid. If we intend to survive here—together—, we need to set some ground rules. You need to tell me when you’re going into heat. I mean, at the first sign of it. Even if it’s just an inkling, or it turns out you’re wrong. And this isn’t because I want to screw your brains out, kid. If I wanted to, I’d already be doing so.”_

_Oliver rolls his eyes at the Alpha’s statement. Was that meant to imply Slade_ would _take advantage of him of just that the Alpha could woo him into bed if he really tried? Yeah, right, no Alpha was ever going to keep him tied down and Bonded. He’d never take a cock up the ass either._

_“No, you and I both know,” Slade begins again, “we’d rather not be around each other when you’re in heat. Because someone was apparently on suppressants and scent concealments for a really long time, probably never even getting so much as a proper whiff of an Alpha—”_

_“—Hey!” Oliver interrupts, not liking the tone of the Alpha’s voice._

_Slade merely raises an eyebrow at him._

_“Am I or am I not correct though?”_

_Blinking, Oliver thinks Slade had actually easily worked him out despite him never having told Slade anything of the sort._

_He was an Omega who consistently took heat suppressants—the testosterone ones obviously, not the ones that would trick his body into thinking he was pregnant—in an attempt to go as long as possible without having a heat. And when he wasn’t in heat, he had the illusion of being a Beta perfected thanks to all varieties of body wash and sprays blocking out his natural scent._

_“Well, uhm, yeah—”_

_“—So, as I was saying,” Slade continues, “When a non-pansy Alpha like yours truly comes along and you’re in heat, you go all damn loopy. You’re at a liability kid, a liability to drop trow and start sucking and fucking at any—”_

_“—I would never!” Oliver screeches._

_The Omega glares at Slade harder than he ever thinks he has before._

_Getting to his feet, Slade seems to get the picture._

_“Alright, enough of your squealing,” Slade groans, “Never said you would, just said you could.”_

_Oliver harhumps._

_“Oh, and one more thing,” Slade says as he walks back over to the Omega._

_As Slade squats next to him, Oliver has to practically drag his gaze over to meet the older man._

_“I want you to take this,” Slade offers, pressing something towards Oliver._

_Looking down, Oliver notices Slade is holding a piece of fabric. It’s the black and grey checkered bandana-thing Slade’s always wearing around his neck._

_“The kerchief?” Oliver questions._

_Slade shakes his head softly._

_"It's a keffiyeh. You don’t have to wear it all the time, but I’d appreciate it if you wore it while we’re outside the fuselage and the general area. The dirt maskings good, kid, but this’ll work better.”_

_Oliver looks at the keffiyeh, then at Slade, as if the Alpha was asking the world of him._

_Letting out a sigh, Slade pushes the keffiyeh in his hand a little closer to Oliver._

_“It means nothing, kid. Don’t think of this as me trying to claim ownership of you or some shit. But if you wanna live, you’ve gotta be smart about it. My scent should be able to mask yours. As long as I put it back on occasionally.”_

_Like he was expecting the item to bite him, Oliver gingerly reaches his fingers out to touch the keffiyeh. Picking it up from the Alpha, Oliver pulls it up to around his collarbone, still looking uncertain._

_“You don’t have to put it on now, just at least when we’re outside,” Slade affirms._

_The Omega shrugs his shoulders, unravelling the fabric._

_“No, I may as well, ‘get myself used to it.”_

_He simply remains looking at the keffiyeh though, as if Oliver was unsure what to do with it._

_“Here,” Slade says, gesturing for the fabric from the Omega._

_Taking it from Oliver, Slade sits himself back down behind the Omega._

_“‘Useless, kid. Let me put it on.”_

_Slotting the fabric around Oliver’s neck, Slade quickly ties it up neatly so it would sit over the Omega’s scent glands. Pretty much the same as how Slade would wear it._

_Slade walks back over to stand in front of the Omega, admiring his handiwork._

_“Does not suit you as much as it suits me,” Slade comments after giving Oliver a look up and down._

_One of the Omega’s hands tentatively reaches out to touch the fabric._

_“Thanks, Slade,” Oliver smiles after a moment._

_Something in Slade burns and simmers at the way Oliver was looking at him._

_Turning away from the Omega, Slade makes to lie down again._

_“Your left thumb should be right to come out of that brace in a couple days. Don’t get comfortable just because I’m not up and kicking your arse about all day.”_

_Oliver smiles as he hears Slade groan, reclining back onto his cot._

_Yes… maybe Slade wasn’t so bad after all._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations from Chinese:
> 
> Ōumǐjiā! — Omega
> 
> Tā jiǎng yīngyǔ — He speaks English
> 
> Zhuā zhù tā! — Get him!
> 
> xxxxxxxx
> 
> Got the translations from the internet, so there’s a decent chance they’re off. Feel free to correct me on them though if you know Chinese.
> 
> Next chapter, back to the present day!
> 
> As always, thank you for reading too.


	10. Damage Control V

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, the last of the Damage Control chapters. I know I like _just_ went away on holidays, but forewarning, I’m now back doing full-time study and working.
> 
> I’ll try to find the time to not let my updating schedule become any worse.
> 
> We’re finally actually progressing the story on a bit more. The Mpreg is near, I promise. I haven’t forgot.

Oliver’s mind is jolted back to the present once he realises Slade is talking once again.

When Slade mentioned them trying to take the airstrip, his mind had wandering back to the island. This time there were somewhat ‘good’ memories though.

His hands instinctively twitch and ache to reach for Slade’s but the Alpha had his palms slotted in his pockets.

Slade sighs, as if he too had just remembered the events Oliver had.

“Complications arose in trying to take the airstip that the supply plane would come into. But ultimately, Oliver and I decided to head back to try and rescue Yao Fei. ‘Didn’t work out though, again, the mercenaries on the island had Yao Fei’s daughter to hold over him. We managed to get out of the enemy encampment relatively unscathed, though it wasn’t like there was a backup plan for getting off the island or anything. So kid and I were stuck together.”

Mentally Oliver thanks Slade for leaving out the details that he did.

Felicity makes a face though, clicking her nails against the top of the table.

“Wait, so… Did you two ever… back on the island?” Felicity vaguely asks, waving a hand.

Screwing up his face, Oliver wonders at the implications of the Beta’s words, before turning his gaze to Slade.

The Alpha had an eyebrow cocked at him almost seductively and Oliver immediately deadpanned, realising what Felicity was implying at but just wasn’t able to say straight.

_No, I didn’t bend over and let Slade fuck me all the time on Lian Yu._

Knowing that it was an honest question, Oliver has to restrain himself from coming across as spiteful.

“No,” Oliver settles for saying.

Slade shakes his head beside him.

"I fuckin’ tried though,” Slade openly exclaims.

Oliver imagines his face must mirror Diggle and Felicity’s as his friends look shocked at Slade’s audacity.

The Omega flicks his head to one side, not looking at Slade.

“I remember no such thing,” Oliver scoffs.

Slade makes a low growling sound.

“I tell yah, when it comes to Omegas and Betas, kid is the biggest slut going _—”_

 _“—_ I am not!” Oliver protests, hands curling into fists at his sides.

Felicity leans over to Diggle and murmurs something under Oliver’s outburst.

“He kind of is though.”

Dig makes an small affirmative nod, sure Oliver might have noticed their semi-private conversing.

Throwing them a glance, Oliver mainly remains focused on Slade though.

“—Gotta try so hard as an Alpha to get anywhere with you. Damn battle to try and get you to put out—okay, maybe not recently,” Slade jokes, waving a hand.

“They’re talking about what we think they’re talking about, right?” Felicity queries to Dig to which the Alpha only hums at.

An elbow is swiftly jabbed into Slade’s side as Oliver practically seethes.

Slade barely flinches at the contact, merely rubbing a palm over his ribs.

“Very nice. Very nice, kid,” Slade says sarcastically.

“Why does Slade call Oliver ‘kid’ though?” Felicity whispers, while the two were seemingly having their separate banter.

“Slade doesn’t look that much older than Oliver. He’s probably your age, Dig, maybe a bit older.”

Dig was 36, so Felicity wouldn’t put it past Slade to be late thirties, maybe even early forties.

There was a bit of grey speckled up the sides of Slade’s hairline, but that could also be hereditary, not necessarily a sign of old age. Felicity had to wonder why Oliver was suddenly interested in an older Alpha.

Beside her, Diggle shrugs, eyes still on Slade and Oliver’s somewhat petty quarrel.

“Probably best not to ask,” Dig affirms.

“We can see how long I can go without putting out for,” Oliver jabs at his Alpha.

The Alpha lets out a short laugh.

“I am fully aware, kid. For over a year and a half! We got there in the end though _—”_

As if suddenly re-aware of his friends presence, horror crosses Oliver’ face.

While Slade is still talking, the Omega promptly slaps his knuckles into the back of Slade’s forearm a couple times.

“—Alright, alright, alright,” Slade deflates, grabbing a hand around the Omega’s wrist.

Oliver is swift to yank himself out of Slade’s grasp.

“Shut up, that didn’t hurt,” Oliver scoffs, “I’ll make it hurt next time though.”

Slade shakes his head.

“‘Such an abusive Omega.”

Diggle clears his throat in the background, to which Oliver and Slade both snap up and take attention of.

“I think we’ve heard enough, don’t you, Felicity?” Dig asks the Beta.

The way the question was worded made it sound like the Alpha was suddenly very uncomfortable and looking for an excuse to remove himself from the Bonded couple’s presence.

Oliver glares at Slade but the Alpha takes little offense to it.

Bangs of hair fall out of Felicity’s ponytail as she shakes her head.

“Wait… What happened though? Why did you two hate each other? It seemed like you two were fighting for awhile. Dig even mentioned that you two were down here a couple weeks back. I managed to recover the surveillance footage after Oliver tried to get rid of it, and it seemed like you two had an argument. Oliver didn’t mention much aside from the fact that… you both hurt each other sometime after Oliver used the Mirakuru to save your life, Slade. And then sometime after that, you were separated on the island.”

Throwing Oliver a look, Slade grins.

“Ooh, she’s nosy, but she’s smart, kid,” Slade marvels.

The Omega slaps a hand over his face, seemingly unaware of what to do now.

This is one thing Oliver wasn’t sure how to explain to his friends. Even trying to untangle the situation between himself and Slade had been a struggle.

Diggle and Felicity remain silent in the background as Oliver drags his gaze back over to his Alpha.

“Do you want to tell them?” Oliver groans.

“I might,” Slade says astutely, “‘I been doing alright so far?”

Oliver nods.

“Fine, fine. Better than I can think of to put things.”

“Alright, I’m just gonna start where I left off then. You’ll tell me, or slap me, if you don’t want something said.”

He couldn’t help but think there was a lot of things he didn’t want said, so Oliver mentally braces himself as Slade begins talking again.

“To cut a long story short—otherwise there’d be months, over a year of shit to cover—kid and I found out that Edward Fyers—the mercenary in charge of the operation on the island—had an anti-aircraft missile launcher transferred into his possession.”

Averting his gaze from the Alpha, Oliver realises he hadn’t told Slade anything about what happened to him after he got off the island. He wonders if maybe he should tell Slade about A.R.G.U.S., Amanda Waller, and China White. Would the Alpha think any differently about him though if he knew? If he knew just how _much_ blood was on his hands?

Oliver supposes he and Slade weren’t that different. They’d both done what they had to just to survive and get by.

The Omega manages to tone out to the frets in his own head, intent on hearing what the Slade had to said.

“—Buts its circuit board—wouldn’t run without it—would have made for a good bargaining chip over Fyers. Oliver nicked it, but of course Fyer’s was never interested in a simple trade. ‘Demanded it back, otherwise he’d murder Yao Fei’s daughter, Shado. Shado was thankfully nowhere near as useless as Oliver was, so we managed to get outta that one, bar Yao Fei. Shado was also far more _patient_ when it came to trying to teach kid anything.”

Slade shakes his head with a sigh.

A sliver of guilt stabs through Oliver at the mention of Shado, but he finds himself rolling his eyes.

“If I’m being honest, I probably would have rathered you beat me up then have Shado watch me slap water all day,” Oliver adds, titling his head towards Slade.

The Alpha lets out a short laugh.

“I’m sure I would have found watching you slap water all day more enjoyable. Besides, who else was going to teach you how to use a bow.”

Felicity immediately shoots Diggle a look but the Alpha raises a hand as if to halt her from saying anything.

Both Oliver and Slade go silent, the Alpha clearing his throat.

“Yao Fei had to rat us out though, otherwise Fyers would have decimated the entire forest. Fyers had stolen the circuit board back while we were distracted getting away from him. Shado had an idea as to the Beta’s plans with the missile launcher, so there was little chance of Fyers leaving us alone to our devices. While Fyers held Shado, the kid, and I hostage, he got what he needed out of Yao Fei—video evidence. For him to take the blame for the missiles Fyers’ was about to shoot off, destroying a commercial airplane. Then he killed Yao Fei.”

Felicity makes a hissing noise in the background and Oliver avoids his friends gazes.

Slade shuffles on his feet beside him.

“But things turned out alright,” Slade explains.

“We managed to get free of our bindings while Fyers took pleasure in getting his missile launcher ready. Oliver and Shado managed to reprogram the missile before it collided with an aircraft with likely hundreds on it. The missile fell straight back down to the ground though, destroying Fyer’s encampment and killing most of everyone in it. We took out Fyers and that was that for the next five months. Until we picked up a frequency on the radio, showing there was something close off the island. It was a boat, but of course those people weren’t bloody civil either.”

Growling, Slade shakes his head and flutters his eyelids open and shut.

Taking a small step inside the Alpha’s guard, Oliver reaches his hand out to have it hover behind Slade’s back. Waiting for Slade to come to him, he wasn’t yet sure if he could trust Slade not to spook when he got in his own head about the island.

When Slade’s low rumbles die off, Oliver is pleased the Alpha continues talking again—seeming sentient.

“They rained hellfire down on our hideout while Oliver and I weren’t at the encampment, but Shado was. Kid had to run back in there though, and of course I gave chase. Got half my face blown off for my bloody troubles. ‘Worst part was though, Ivo kidnapped the kid because Oliver had an idea where the Mirakuru was. And then Beta girlie Sara was working with him—” Slade practically snarls the words but it’s Felicity who blurts out the next sentence.

“—Wait, Sara? She was on the boat? That’s why—a couple weeks back—she said ‘after the freighter’. She meant after the boat, right?”

Felicity looks at Dig for reassurance, practically sure she was right.

Slade merely hisses under his breath though, eyes downcast towards the floor.

“Beta girlie is alive? Why I—”

“—It wasn’t like that, Slade,” Oliver says calmly.

As he winds a hand into Slade’s own the Alpha falls silent, fingers immediately curling around Oliver’s.

Oliver is mentally very thankful that he was starting to wisen up on how best to prevent arguments from being initiated with Slade.

Giving Slade’s hand a squeeze—Oliver not quite caring that his and Slade’s arms were wrapped around each other’s in plain view—, the Omega decides now would be a good time for him to take over.

“Before you two both ask about Sara,” Oliver addresses his friends, “you should know she was pretty much a hostage of Ivo’s in her own right.”

“Ivo would have never killed her though. Not even after I got her to come with me when Shado and Slade rescued me from Ivo. After we got the Mirakuru to Slade but it seemed like it didn’t work, Ivo held Shado, myself, and Sara at gunpoint. He made us watch him kill Shado but I know now that he probably had no intentions of killing Sara or I then.”

“What are you talking about?!” Slade hisses beside him, close to his ear.

Pressing his shoulder into Slade’s Oliver lightly pushes the Alpha away from him.

“Don’t worry about it. I was fine, remember,” Oliver murmurs, hoping to quell the Alpha’s turbulent emotions.

Slade grumbles but goes quiet once Oliver starts stroking his thumb across the Alpha’s knuckles.

He could see now, a lot of times where Slade might have seemed like he was bossing him around on the island, that was really just the Alpha’s protective instinct rearing up.

Once Slade’s hand tickles back into Oliver’s, the Omega allows his attention to slide back over to Diggle and Felicity.

Felicity and Dig’s eyes were both on him, something like concern filling them.

Oliver breaths in a deep inhale.

“After Slade revived, he managed to save Sara and I, but Ivo escaped. Slade… needed his space though after we buried Shado. Sara and I were caught out when Ivo’s men found us patrolling the forest. We split up trying to get away, but Ivo captured me,” Oliver states, trying to keep his voice indifferent of his internal turmoil.

Slade makes a low, threatening voice yet it quickly dies off.

“I learnt it from Sara afterwards, but Ivo’s Omega had early-onset dementia. Huntington's disease to be exact. There was nothing that could be done for her mental deterioration, it couldn’t even be stalled. Ivo was still a total nutcase on his own though. He kept so many prisoners on the boat because he was constantly experimenting on them. Usually they’d die shortly afterwards. Ivo tried to induce cancer cells to develop in their bodies through radiation poisoning. He needed to know if the Mirakuru could cure something as chronic as cancer or dementia. Knowing that wasn’t enough though, because the Mirakuru could just as easily kill someone rather than save them.”

Taking a break from talking, Oliver catches his breath for a moment.

His friends eyes are still peeled on him and Slade was quiet beside him.

Knots were starting to form in Oliver’s stomach. He was getting close to the part of this explanation he was going to hate trying to construe.

“Anyway, the Mirakuru serum was designed mostly from testosterone, among other things. It wasn’t really meant to be used on Omegas and Betas, killed them more than anything else. Ivo didn’t really have any prisoners on the ship other than Alphas and Beta males, hence why he squared up Sara early on to be the guinea pig for his wife’s ‘life-saving treatment’. Or at least, that’s how Sara told it to me. I suppose I was a better specimen when it came down to it, albeit no idea how he knew I was an Omega. Ivo wanted to know if and when the Mirakuru would kill me and then wanted to autopsy my body.”

Slade groans, nudging his shoulder into Oliver’s.

“Maybe he knew you were an Omega because you were in fuckin’ heat, stupid,” the Alpha berates.

“Always your damn biology, screwing us over at the most inconvenient times. First, I gotta ransack a boat full of hostiles just to get to yah, then you gotta make it difficult just to be around yah.”

Oliver rolls his eyes in Slade’s direction.

As if he could control when his body decided it wanted to ovulate.

A moment of silence passes between them. He and Slade both knew how this ended. It didn’t seem right for him to ask Slade to try and explain this for him however.

Keeping his eyes everywhere but on his friends, Oliver opens his mouth to speak.

“I—”

Suddenly, Slade grips his hand tightly, but not painfully.

The Alpha’s eyes slide over to meet his own and Slade nods.

“‘Never did anything wrong. Kid might have been a bit frisky but that doesn’t excuse how damn rough I probably was. I had no idea how hard I must have been pressing my hands into the kid. Damn, worst thing about the Mirakuru. I left a nice scar on Oliver’s side with my fingers. Oliver was completely right in scrambling when he did; I was totally out of it. Still don’t quite remember what I did. But… kid scrambled, meant to jab me with one of his arrowheads to throw me off, ‘ended up putting it through my eye. I woke up from unconsciousness like that and that was the last we saw of one another for five years.”

Felicity mutters something that sounded like ‘oh my god’, hand coming up over her mouth.

Dig turns his head in the opposite direction, blinking.

Instinct tells Oliver to run, heart hammering away in his throat. If his friends couldn’t accept this… it would only create a bigger divide between himself and them.

He _needed_ them to be okay with himself and Slade.

It’s Felicity that meets Oliver’s gaze first, the Beta taking in a deep inhale, wiping at the skin around her glasses.

“Are you two okay now… though?” Felicity asks, tentatively.

“I can totally see why that would cause some confusion. Y’know, not knowing why you hurt one another, and then the not seeing each other for a really long time. Oliver said the Mirakuru would have messed with your brain a bit, and then you were here, you wanted revenge, you two were both fighting—”

Oliver holds up a hand to silence the Beta as her hands start curling into her skirt.

“We were never exactly fighting, Felicity. Or at least, we were never trying to kill each other like you and Dig probably thought. Slade and I were just… arguing, mostly. Trying to figure out what we just told you in short… It took a while and several long, hard chats. But…”

The Omega swings his hand slightly in Slade’s, causing their arms to move.

Lightly smiling, Oliver watches Slade scoff.

“You would never hurt me on purpose, now would you Slade?” Oliver jeers.

Slade leans away from Oliver slightly but his hand remains entangled in Oliver’s.

“If only I could sew your mouth shut, I’d never have to,” Slade says, before addressing Oliver’s friends.

“Now, Miss Smoak, Mr Diggle, will that suffice?”

Felicity’s brows raise and she goes still for a moment.

Diggle shoves his hands into his pockets, keeping his eyes on Felicity.

“Are you going to tell her or am I, Oliver?” Dig queries.

“Tell me what?” Felicity is quick to exclaim, looking at Oliver.

Looking at Dig, Oliver isn’t sure why the Alpha’s sending him a concerned-like gaze.

What hadn’t he said?

Beside him, Slade says nothing.

“‘No idea what you’re talking about, Dig, so you may as well spit it out,” Oliver shrugs.

The Beta’s arms are crossed over her chest, heel clicking on the floor.

“Alright, sorry man,” Dig apologises—for what though?—, straightening himself up.

Dig leans down slightly towards Felicity as if about to divulge a secret.

Everyone is dead quiet in the room.

“So… couldn’t tell you whether it’s entire or just a pseudo—”

Oliver immediately pales, mentally facepalming.

Not bringing a portable form of Beta spray with him to Slade’s place was just about to bite him in the ass.

He was okay with the idea of letting his friends smell Slade on him, hoping they’d jump to their own conclusions and he wouldn’t have to outright say it.... But Felicity was a Beta! Diggle himself had probably picked up on it almost immediately.

“—But Slade and Oliver are Bonded.”

Felicity’s mouth falls open and Slade releases a low, hissing sound.

Slade pulls his hand out of Oliver’s, gesturing his hands out in front of him.

“Why did you leave that out? I thought you would have told that to your friends when you were first mentioning _us_ to them. That’s why I didn’t mention it. You explain this, not me. I’m already in enough trouble as it is,” the Alpha scolds Oliver.

“I didn’t really know how to bring it up,” Oliver honestly shrugs.

Both to Slade and his friends.

Mentioning to his friends he was Bonded to Slade Wilson, was pretty much admitting to his friends he’d taken a cock up the ass (and he liked it)! And that he would also be actively seeking to take more cock up the ass (that would hopefully be just as enjoyable).

He was an Omega, it’s what most people his dynamic _did_. So why did it feel so embarrassing then to have his friends find out Oliver Queen liked Alpha cock?

“Wait, wait,” Felicity starts, holding her hands out in front of her.

“How can you be Bonded?”

Turning to Oliver, Slade has this look of pure horror on his face. It quickly morphs into confusion.

“What are they teaching in Betas in sex ed these days? Anyway, I don’t want to be a part of this conversation. I believed I’ve upheld my end of the agreement today and ‘behaved’ enough. I might just blow a gasket eventually, kid,” Slade almost pleads.

“You can’t leave,” Oliver says, throwing him a look.

“Yes, I can. Walk with me,” Slade says looping his arm through Oliver’s and keeping the Omega’s tight against his body.

“Wait,” Oliver cries as soon as he feels Slade go to drag him out the door.

“Oh, fine. Always leave the hard work to me, kid,” Slade says, huffing and puffing.

Slade looks at Oliver’s friends.

Mr Diggle looked like he was unsurprised by his Bonding to Oliver, had probably had time to get used to it. Miss Smoak on the other hand, looked utterly confused.

“For the record,” Slade starts, still not releasing his grip on Oliver.

“Kid jumped _me_ , and that was the end of that. I had no such intentions; very cunning of the kid. ‘Fucked me right up though. Oliver made the right call that I probably _couldn’t_ hurt him. Unfortunately, the feelings between us are mutual and I guess that means I’ll have to borrow Oliver from you occasionally. Don’t worry, you’ll know when… Oliver gets very cranky and moody when it’s his time.”

Oliver practically hangs his head in shame, eyes on the floor.

Felicity seems to take a moment to process Slade’s information, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Oliver’s always cranky and moody,” the Beta chides.

Diggle shakes his head beside her.

Slade lets out a husky laugh.

“You are not wrong, Miss Smoak. Next time he’s in, I’ll have to point Oliver’s extra special, cranky and moody mode out to you.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’ve seen it,” Felicity affirms.

With Oliver still writhing in his grasp, Slade proceeds to walk his Omega to the door.

“It was very nice to meet you, Miss Smoak and Mr Diggle. Hopefully next time I’ll get Oliver to be a bit more agreeable,” Slade says with an incline of his head towards the Omega.

“Just Felicity’s fine,” the Beta remarks, knotting her hands together.

“Dig,” Mr Diggle offers, nodding.

Slade goes to pull Oliver out of Verdant, but the Beta’s voice halts him.

“Slade…”

His eyes flick back over to the Beta.

Felicity sighs, lowering her head towards her feet.

“Thank you for being honest.”

 _Unlike Oliver_ are the unspoken words that hang in the room.

The Alpha raises a brow but otherwise continues dragging Oliver with him outside of Verdant.

“Don’t worry,” Slade grins back, “You can tear strips off him shortly.”

As soon as Slade and Oliver are out of Verdant, Felicity rushes to her computers.

Dig looks over her shoulder, noticing the tabs Felicity was pulling up.

“You’re going straight for the surveillance footage outside, aren’t you?” Dig asks, like he wasn't certain he already knew the answer.

“Of course,” Felicity chimes, beaming.

“Pity there’s no sound though.”

xxxxxxxx

Oliver jerks in Slade’s grasp as the Alpha pulls him along with him.

The Omega pulls the door shut behind them and as soon as he’s done so, Slade’s arm slides free of his.

Slade instively takes a step back, expecting the Omega to possibly throw a swing at him.

Instead, Oliver does the unexpected, trotting forward and throwing his arms behind Slade’s neck.

His head drops onto Slade’s shoulder.

Blinking, Slade waits a moment before he’s sure Oliver’s not going to smack him upside the head anyway.

“Uhh,” Slade lets out uncertainly.

He keeps his arms immobile by his side, wondering as to the Omega’s game.

“Why do I get this?” Slade eventually asks.

“What do you mean, why? Does there have to be a reason?” Oliver says.

A warm, fuzzy feeling heats up Slade’s chest at the Omega’s arms linked around him. Albeit Oliver was only a couple centimetres taller than him, the gesture made Slade feel oddly safe.

He could feel Oliver’s heartbeat beating up against his chest.

Screwing his face up, Slade seeks a response from Oliver, still not sure what to do with his hands.

Instinct tells him to claw at Oliver’s hips or grab his ass but his mind and heart swayed him otherwise.

“For a moment there, I was expecting you to try and sock me,” Slade affirms.

The Omega seems to nod against the side of Slade’s neck.

“I was considering it for a moment, but I’d rather do this.”

Oliver’s hands move slightly, arms tightening across Slade’s shoulderblades.

Closing his eyes, Slade wraps his arms across the small of Oliver’s back, pulling the Omega slightly closer.

Obliging, Oliver’s chest presses firmly up against Slade’s and the Omega lets out a cool ghost of air over Slade’s ear.

“Hmph, took you long enough, old man,” Oliver chides.

Allowing a smile to appear on his face, Slade slowly rubs his hands over Oliver’s back. Slowly, so hopefully not to aggravate any scars or burn wounds there.

“Excuse my reluctance to do anything remotely intimate with you. I will never forgot it was _you_ who first attempted to Bond me, cunning shithouse rat.”

Letting out a humming sound, Oliver nudges his head into Slade’s throat.

Said Alpha thinks this might be Oliver discreetly trying to scent him and Slade decides to do so as well. Usually he got in trouble for implying his Omega smelt nice.

Taking in a deep breath, the Omega falls slightly closer to Slade as the Alpha’s chest heaves in. It felt like Oliver might have actually been dropping most of his weight on him, but it was hardly a problem to Slade—Mirakuru or no Mirakuru.

Slade’s nose twitches slightly, immediately able to notice the difference several hours without a Beta cologne on made for Oliver’s scent. It was less muddied, more natural, but the Omega’s scent was only around his neck, didn’t cling to his Beta-sterilized clothes.

There’s still a sort of barrier to Oliver’s scent—the suppressants—his scent didn’t waft and carry across a room like it should do. Sweet vanilla dominates his Omega’s scent though. Yet there was also something like tobacco—not himself, Slade thinks—, it was like an unsmoked pipe, honeyed with a kind of cherry tinge.

Kid smelt like plants mostly, but not at all like musky, woody forest Slade did.

Oliver pulls back lightly from Slade’s grasp.

One of his hands retracts to lay over the Alpha’s chest and his eyes then meet the older man’s.

“You know, the more you smell me, the more weird it gets,” Oliver states, expression almost perplexed.

There might have almost been a red hue to his face.

Baring his teeth slightly at the Omega, Slade makes a low growling sound.

“Then you should also know, I don’t have to be anywhere near this close to you to smell you,” Slade verifies, hands curling into the Omega’s clothes.

The Omega rolls his eyes.

“When we’re this close, it’s obvious you’re doing it though.”

Palms pressing against the Omega’s back, Slade forces Oliver closer to him until his nose almost brushes over the younger man’s.

“I’m not going to apologise for appreciating the way you smell. So remove the stick up your arse and stop getting all defensive about it. I wouldn’t be scenting you if I didn’t think you smelt nice,” the Alpha insists.

Oliver appears to visually swallow, a hint of uncertainty creeping into his voice as he begins talking.

“Well, how do I smell then?”

At the quirking upwards of Oliver’s eyebrows, Slade shakes his head.

“Don’t worry about it. Good, okay. For now, are you going to get in trouble with your friends?” Slade asks, trying to redirect the conversation.

Shaking his for a moment, Oliver then exhales.

“They took it better than I thought they would but I expect I might still get chewed out for some things. I know I haven’t always made the best decisions relationship-wise but I trust you Slade, ‘would do so with my life. Diggle and Felicity will just have to learn to accept that. _Us_ has nothing to do with them unless I let them in on it,” Oliver dictates somewhat sternly.

Mulling it over in his head, Slade couldn’t help but disagree with Oliver’s mindset. The Alpha himself expected that the best way to integrate himself into Oliver’s life and see him more often, would be to keep Oliver’s friends and family happy, not only with himself, but also Oliver as well.

“That’s kind of what I’d be concerned about though,” Slade acknowledges, to which Oliver gives him a look.

“Don’t get yourself in trouble, kid. I don’t exactly want my rights of seeing you revoked. On that topic however, you know how I told you there’s things you should know… Your friends aren’t going to attack you because of the Mirakuru—”

Slade goes quiet as Oliver presses a finger to his lips, muscles contorting in the Omega’s face.

A hand still on Slade’s shoulder tightens over the side of the Alpha’s neck.

Without moving or saying a word, Slade waits.

After a moment, Oliver’s brows lower back over his eyes and the finger over Slade’s mouth comes away.

Looking at the ground for a moment, Oliver sighs.

The Omega throws his head back over Slade’s shoulder, arms curling around the Alpha. Although confused by it, Slade welcomes the gesture.

“Don’t say _it_ , Slade,” Oliver insists softly, “Don’t say it.”

“I know you’ve done more than just what you’ve told me. I’ve had my suspicions. But… ever since we’ve Bonded, I haven’t… That’s been the last thing on my mind. I’ve always been more concerned about _us_ ever since I became confident you weren’t actively trying to hurt me. I realise that the only reason you’d probably ever bring up the Mirakuru and what you were doing here in Starling… would be because you haven’t fully put a stop to it or you can’t.”

Stopping for a moment to catch his breath, Oliver shakes his head against Slade’s neck.

“I know I need to know, but once you tell me this, Slade… I can’t promise not to be mad. I don’t want to have to feign to my friends that everything’s been resolved between us… if it hasn’t. So let me… Let me just remain ignorant for now, Slade. Let me have time to just gauge my friends opinions of us. Work out _if_ and _what_ things I don’t want them knowing before adding a potential nother plethora of issues on top of that.”

Oliver caresses Slade’s back as he speaks, kneading his fingers into the tightness around the older man’s shoulder blades and the joints of his spine.

It was getting harder for Oliver to conjure up the words he needed to come out, but he had to press on regardless. Had to let the Alpha know how he felt. Sometimes being honest and truthful hurt Oliver more than lying ever could.

“I don’t want my opinion of you or us to change, but I know this—what you want to tell me—has all been predetermined. So… I suppose I’ll ask you now, Slade. Can you resolve… whatever’s going on… on your own?”

Slade’s hands tighten into the back of Oliver’s shirt, which seems like a definite indicator to both of them as to what the Alpha’s answer was going to be.

Oliver holds his breath waiting for the Alpha’s answer.

The Alpha takes in an inhale before he responds.

“No…” Slade murmurs close to Oliver’s ear, “but if I told you, you’d probably clock why quickly.”

Muscles in Slade’s back tighten underneath Oliver’s fingers. Immediately, Oliver runs his fingers over them.

“I figured as much,” Oliver responds, “‘Don’t think I’m mad at you or anything though.”

Pulling himself back from the Alpha, Oliver’s eyes immediately seek out Slade’s.

There’s a sort of relief on Slade’s face, but the Alpha’s face was otherwise hard to pick of emotions.

Hands never leaving Slade, Oliver tries to find the words to say to the Alpha.

“I’m assuming it’s not urgent, but next time we see each other, you can tell me everything I need to know then. I’ll even ask you to. Just… I promise you I won’t let this go.”

One side of Slade’s mouth quirks upwards and a dark glint appears behind his eyes.

“For now,” Slade says, almost purring, “are you anticipating an attack from Miss Smoak and Mr Diggle?”

Oliver removes one hand from Slade to drag it over his own face instead.

“I’ve probably been out here for too long as it is. I _can’t_ believe you told them we were Bonded.”

A sort of smirk creeps over Slade’s face. It's the kind of smile that promised the Omega all kinds of things and it sent a small shower of fireworks off in the Omega’s stomach.

“Hardly needed to, the average Omega or Alpha would pick it on your scent. Wasn’t that the point of you walking in there with no Beta spray on? Anyway… if you’re expecting an interruption from your friends, I somewhat doubt you’ll get it. We’re probably already being watched as it is.”

Eyes going as wide as dinner plates, Oliver immediately jerks back out of Slade’s grasp.

He stumbles slightly on his feet but his gaze immediately picks out the surveillance camera above the door.

 _Shit, shit_.

He wonders if he just condemned himself more in his friends eyes with his actions.

“I should go,” Oliver sighs, turning back to meet Slade.

Slade slots his hands into his pockets, then closes the distance between himself and Oliver.

“So…” Slade drawls, flicking his eyes to one side.

“Seeing as this is our bi-weekly meetup quota fulfilled, I guess I won’t be seeing you until, at the earliest the 27th...”

Oliver has to ponder over the Alpha’s words for a moment before realising Slade was probably taking a dig at how little they saw each other. Guilt stabs Oliver in the chest when he remembers today must be the 18th… The Alpha was implying they probably wouldn’t see each other for at least another nine days, minimum.

Although Oliver doesn’t think going that long without seeing one other was unusual for couples, the Omega would admit, he didn’t put that much effort in trying to change that between them.

He disliked their time apart from one another even more now though, knowing about Slade’s sleeping habits. Or rather, the likely lack thereof sleep the Alpha was getting.

Folding his arms over his chest, Oliver shakes his head.

“I’ll make more time for us. I promise, ok,” Oliver affirms, then nods.

For a moment Slade says nothing yet he strolls over to the Omega, stopping just in front of him.

Blinking, Oliver expects a lecture but Slade merely quickly presses a peck of lips onto his own.

“No more suppressants,” Slade lightly growls, tapping his forehead onto the Omega’s own.

Before Slade can walk away though, Oliver returns a swift kiss to the Alpha’s mouth as well.

“That I can definitely promise.”

Chuckling, Slade smirks and begins to pull back from Oliver.

“Be good, kid,” Slade says jovially.

“I’m always good,” Oliver returns, smacking his palm into the Alpha’s arm.

xxxxxxxx

As Oliver walks back into Verdant, he’s unsurprised to see Felicity fling herself back in her chair and scramble away from a computer. Dig more subtlety straightens up from where he’d been leaning over, then walks around the table to greet Oliver.

“No arguments, I presume,” Dig remarks more than questions.

Oliver makes a disapproving growl, flicking his head to one side.

“No. But even if there was, I might not necessarily tell you two about it.”

The Omega wanders over to Felicity, picking out how her fingers immediately dart back to the keyboard, tapping away at it and avoiding his gaze.

By time Oliver’s halted beside the table, the computer Felicity’s using is free of any tabs or browsers.

Felicity’s hands fold into her lap and Oliver rolls his eyes.

“You don’t have to act like you weren’t watching us. It’s fairly evident you both were.”

Absentmindedly, Oliver finds his feet taking him over to the cabinet where he kept his scent concealers. He stops before he gets there though, taking note of how it was at least easier to smell Dig and Felicity this way.

“We were just checking on you and Slade. Not spying or anything!” Felicity rattles off in the background.

Glancing over at the Beta, Oliver thinks most of the lavender-like smell on her must be mainly perfume. Betas possessed poorly developed scent glands in comparison to other dynamics. Only one pair on their neck rather than the three Omegas and Alphas had on their neck, wrists, and around their genitals.

Whatever weak scent Felicity produces though, Oliver finds there's no conflict between it and the perfume she wears. Maybe the flowery scent was meant to compliment her real one. They were likely similar.

Flicking his eyes Diggle’s way, Oliver realises whatever scent Felicity has is mostly drowned out by what must be Dig’s scent.

Nose twitching at the air, Oliver thinks to himself that the Alpha smelt like amber. He had that kind of musky smell, similar to what Oliver found in Slade’s scent.

Maybe it was just a common scent-related trait Alphas could share. Eventually he should try to get a proper whiff of Thea, however unlikely that was to happen.

How did Omegas smell then, Oliver wonders. He didn’t really associate with any. Was his scent like his mother’s?

Mind returning to the present, Oliver grits his teeth when he sees Dig looking back at him. The Alpha’s nose was also twitching slightly, mirroring the action Oliver was just making, likely scenting him back.

“Stop smelling me!” Oliver gruffly demands.

His hands twitch and curl into the hem of his shirt, feeling like he wants to smear dirt—old habits die hard—or artificial Beta smells all over his scent glands.

Dig keeps his expression to a mostly blank slate as he seats himself back on a table.

“Am I going to be checking you over for a bite next time you work out, or do you want to tell me if there’s one now?” the Alpha asks firmly.

Oliver’s arms instinctively come up to fold over his chest.

It was none of anyone else’s business whether he and Slade were only _just_ Bonded or _‘till-death-do-us-part’_ Bonded. What if he and Slade were entirely Bonded, it would only then serve as more proof to Diggle and Felicity of his lo—relationship with the Alpha.

Biting his tongue, Oliver feels his heart racing in his chest. He kept thinking about that word lately. That four letter word that brought people together but could also destroy them.

Lately, he thought about it—and must have felt it—for Slade, but had never actually told the Alpha about it.

Three syllables, eight letters, the meaning behind those words could change a lot for him and Slade...

“What makes you think you’ll find one?” Oliver huffs, trying to still his racing thoughts and heartbeat.

Leaning forward on the table, Dig gives him a stern look.

“Are you implying it’s not in a visual location?”

Felicity’s chair creaks somewhere in the background.

Shaking his head, Oliver lowly growls.

“There isn’t one, ok! You won’t find one because there isn’t one.”

Dig averts his gaze from Oliver and the Omega slouches on his feet.

“That’s all I wanted to know,” Dig affirms.

Immediately Oliver feels like concealing his scent again, not sure what else Diggle could determine from the way he smelt. Evidently not that he and Slade were only pseudo Bonded.

It’s Felicity who breaks the silence between them.

“Can we all stop talking as if I’m the lone Beta in the room and tell me what’s going on? You're talking about like bite marks and Bonding… Why wouldn’t you have a bite mark, Oliver?”

The Beta gestures her hands out in front of her, gaze honed in on the Omega.

Letting out a disgruntled noise, Oliver finds himself looking away from her.

He was constantly in people’s crossfires today.

“You are the lone Beta in the room, Felicity,” Oliver responds, sure Felicity was hinted at trying to get into a conversation of ‘how Bonding works’.

“Well that’s not my fault,” Felicity half-berates, “I don’t know what you and Dig are both doing when you’re like sniffing the air and talking about your Alpha-Omega weird stuff.”

There’s a hint of distaste in Felicity’s voice, like she couldn’t actually believe what she was saying.

Oliver sighs, turning to face her. He felt equally awkward talking about topics that only affected Alphas and Omegas... and he was an Omega.

“I would trade dynamics with you any day, Felicity.”

Waving her hands out in front of herself, Felicity looks like she might have fallen over at Oliver’s statement had she not been sitting down.

“Oh no, no, no,” Felicity starts.

“I like being a Beta. I like Betas too. Not that there’s anything wrong with Alphas or Omegas, there’s certainly nothing wrong with you and Diggle either. Just for a long time it seemed like you were a Beta, Oliver, and you only liked Omegas and Beta females, not Alphas. Which would have made you straight at the time—it’s only considered hetrosexual if you can have kids together though—which meant you were really gay all along. But then you went out with Helena which was gay, but totally normal because you’re an Omega, and now you like Slade so that must mean you like everyone. You like all dynamics and genders, so that make you bisexual, right?”

Felicity’s rambling ceases as Oliver gives her a stern look, nostrils flaring.

A finger curls into one of her bangs of loose hair, and Felicity breaks Oliver’s gaze only to turn to Diggle.

“Dig! How come you’re nowhere near as weirded out by Oliver having Bonded to some Alpha we know nothing about?” Felicity exclaims.

A growl begins to form in the back of Oliver’s throat, but the Omega manages to hold it in when Dig only gives the Beta an absentminded glance.

The Omega’s fingers unfurl from digging into his palms.

Dig had yet to verbally attack him.

Remaining silent, Oliver watches Diggle flick a look his way before turning to address Felicity.

“I suppose I can’t blame you for finding it odd, Felicity. Lyla’s the same, Betas usually never become fully accustomed to scenting and Bonding despite how much they’re exposed to it. Do you know much of how Bonding works though?”

Hair stands up on the back of Oliver’s neck as Felicity appears to consider the Alpha’s question.

_Are they really going to talk about this?_

The worst thing though was they were going to talk about it with himself and Slade in mind. His friends thinking about him taking it up the ass did not bode well with Oliver.

Shifting on his feet, Oliver decides not to draw attention to himself. Maybe the conversation would simply cease on its own and such thoughts never crossed Diggle’s and Felicity’s minds.

Tapping a finger against her face, Felicity shakes her head.

“If you’re going to tell me that Bonds only form because the Alpha and Omega _care_ for each other, well, I know that. That still doesn’t make Slade and Oliver any less weird or any more ok though.”

Felicity doesn’t direct her statement at Oliver, and neither of his friends look his way, but Oliver can’t help feel annoyed by her words.

Diggle only shrugs slightly.

“It’s a little more complex than that. Unfortunately, movies and the media hardly ever portray Bonding with much truth. Like, there are no instantaneous Bondings. Alphas and Omega _choose_ their mates before anything.”

Oliver notices rather than firing back another question, Felicity shuffles forward on her chair and props her arms up on the table in front of her.

Sliding his gaze over to the Alpha, Oliver finds Dig is looking back at him with a sort of _‘I-told-you-so’_ look.

Growling, Oliver breaks his gaze.

“Don’t look at me,” the Omega reprimands, “I’m not in this conversation.”

The Alpha might have rolled his eyes back at Oliver but the Omega pays little mind.

Pottering over to where his bow was, Oliver pretends not to care for his friends discussion, but his ears prick up when he hears Dig begin speaking again.

“Betas are usually falsely lead to believe that Bonds just occur, almost as if overnight, because an Alpha just happens to be around an Omega in heat. Which isn’t the case, although an Omega’s heat definitely plays a part in it. Bonding in its truest, most thorough—‘scientific’, so to speak—extent, occurs in three stages. Albeit only two of those stages are part of the actual ‘Bonding’.”

Curling his hand around the limb of his bow, Oliver couldn’t help silently admit that Dig was pretty alright at trying to explain Bonding to someone else.

Growing up, Oliver was just raised not to have sex with Alphas because his father couldn’t afford to have him Bonding with anyone who wasn’t a one-percenter. Regardless of the fact that any Bond could be broken and Oliver would admit more than half the people he’s had sex with, he probably never serious cared for.

Relief tugs at Oliver’s heartstrings as he tones out to his own thoughts and back into Dig’s explanation.

“Before any sort of Bond can occur, Alphas and Omegas… imprint, though there’s no scientific name for it as such. It’s the weirdest thing about Bonding because it’s difficult to know when an imprinting has actually occurred, only that it has to have happened from both parties for a Bond to form. Imprinting is—Oliver…?”

Oliver realises he’s staring in Dig’s and Felicity’s direction when he hears his name  being called.

Mind jolting back to the present, Oliver’s hand tightens around his bow when he realises his mind had wandered back to Slade.

 _Dammit_ , he couldn’t hear words like Bond or imprint anymore without thinking about the Alpha.

Dig and Felicity remain staring at him, and Oliver decides to break the silence between them before one of them did.

“Imprinting… Imprinting just happens, Felicity,” Oliver explains, picking up the conversation from where Dig had left off.

“It’s supposed to be like a chemical release of endorphins and hormones telling you that you like someone—that they’re a compatible mate. But I could never recall anything like that. Slade and I evidently imprinted on one another but it didn’t just suddenly feel like I _liked_ him or anything. Half the time I felt like I hated his guts.”

Deflating somewhat, Oliver leans into a steel surface when he thinks he isn’t going to be under fire with questions. He didn’t really feel like shooting at the moment, so next thing he knew, Oliver was pushing his bow up onto the table.

Felicity lightly smiles at him before the expression disappears and she turns her attention back to Diggle.

“So… if Omegas and Alphas imprint, but they don’t bite each other in order to Bond, what happens then for a Bond to form?”

Diggle shakes his head.

“The first stage of an actual Bonding, usually called a pseudo or quasi Bond, is what Oliver and Slade have.”

Averting his gaze to a wall, Oliver feels Felicity’s eyes land on him momentarily.

“A Bonding only takes place when mates have imprinted but they also have not been intimate with anyone else for roughly a month. It’s weird, but Bonding is monogamous, even in polygynies. Omegas and Alphas bodies’ won’t produce a Bond if they catch so much as a whiff of another potential mate on one another.”

Raking a hand over his arm nervously, Oliver waits to hear a comment from his friends that someone like him had remained chaste for a month, but it doesn’t come.

Propping his upper body up on the table in front of him, Oliver breathes a sigh of relief. His friends disagreement with him was starting to feel more manageable but he did have to wonder why Dig was less on the offensive towards him.

“The actual Bonding itself… Well, just about everyone knows how that happens. Bonds can only be produced when the Omega is in heat and the Alpha _‘ties’_ with them.”

Oliver has to resist the urge to squirm in his skin.

 _Tying_ was a polite way of saying knotting. As such, marriage was often referred to as ‘tying the knot’.

It’s freaking gross in Oliver’s mind to hear his friends making reference to sex. Because Oliver is clearly the base topic at hand here.

Dig clears his throat before continuing.

“Anyone who’s gone through puberty can produce a Bond but you usually don’t see it in teenagers. They usually can’t properly tie. Even adult Alphas won’t always properly tie first go.”

Redness colours Felicity’s cheeks and Oliver is sure he himself might look the same. If Dig is embarrassed talking about the subject, his dark skin hides it well.

The Alpha spares Felicity the details, but if an Omega isn’t properly knotted during their heat—which for an male like Oliver meant Alpha dick in secondary tract, knot in ass—their heat didn’t fully subside. Rather, it was like a bodily itch of the Omega’s had been scratched but hadn’t been fully tended to, to the point where it was no longer noticeable.

Which Oliver could unfortunately attest to was true.

_Tommy…_

Letting out a sigh, Oliver couldn’t help but think it was almost embarrassing that his late best friend hadn’t been able to successfully knot him in a single go.

Oliver didn’t really think he could deal with that from an Alpha on a constant basis. He’d just get annoyed and probably want to castrate them.

Slade was no exception, he’d definitely want to shoot the Alpha if he couldn’t rid Oliver of his heat.

“Anyway,” Dig says, redrawing Felicity’s attention and his own.

“Pseudo-Bonds aren’t the big relationship commitment that entire Bonds are. Pseudos break when mates have time and distance away from one another. Even if they can’t physically be away from one another, if the emotions and hormones—like oxytocin—that forged the Bond in the first place, are no longer present in either mate, the Bond dissolves on its own.”

Felicity glances Oliver’s way but the Omega’s mind was mainly on his own thoughts.

 _Oxytocin…_ Where had Oliver heard that before? It was the love drug, wasn’t it?

Slade had mentioned it in their conversations last night and Oliver finds himself recalling his exact words.

_Entire Bond or not, I care, you care, oxytocin, all that hormone Bonding bullshit—I am yours, and you are mine._

A sort of sadness creeps through Oliver, like he suddenly didn’t like how fragile and incomplete his Bond was with Slade. He didn’t expect the _‘oxytocin’_ to fade from either one of them, but how much distance between them would it take for their Bond to sever?

Even though he’s not foreign to the ways of Bonding, Oliver finds himself listening intently to Diggle’s next words.

“So that’s…” Dig pauses for a moment, “what Oliver and Slade have. But as far as entire Bonds go, they can form without a pseudo having had to be there in the first place. ‘Probably why most Betas don’t seem to know of the existence of pseudo-Bonds.”

Clicking her heel on the concrete, Felicity furrows her brows.

Oliver shuffles forward slightly on the table he’s lying over, suddenly appreciating Diggle a little more for the Alpha keeping Felicity off his back.

“Entire Bonds form just the same as pseudos, only the Alpha and Omega have to bite one another while the Alpha’s tied. A full blown Bond is only broken by death, or what’s essentially Bond chemo.”

For a moment, everyone is quiet, but curiosity gets the better of Oliver and he finds himself making his way in Diggle’s direction.

“I understand why Felicity’s probably been mad with me a lot lately _—_ Bonds and all probably not making much sense to a Beta _—_ but how come you haven’t been really annoyed with me, Dig?” Oliver queries, straightening up once he’s next to the Alpha.

Dig meets Oliver’s gaze.

“Does Slade make you happy?” the Alpha asks back.

Slightly taken aback by the question, Oliver’s first instinct is to shake his head. He immediately stops though once his mind has processed the question.

Both of his friends eyes are on him and Oliver lets out a huff.

“As close an approximation as there is to it.”

The Alpha looks away from Oliver, steepling his hands.

“I told you back in March, nearly a year ago, that you were spending too much time under that hood. And I don’t disagree with what I said, but between now and then, I haven’t seen you get close to or let anyone else in. Not after Helena and McKenna didn’t work out.”

Tension runs through Oliver as his body anticipates an attack. His eyes find a wall to stare at but Dig’s tone of voice remains placid.

“But, even though you and Slade evidently have your own issues, you seem more at ease with Slade than you ever did with Helena and McKenna. Enough so, where you’d actually Bond to him and care to take the time to want to introduce him to myself and Felicity.”

The Omega screws up his face, hoping he was interpreting Dig’s words the way they were meant to be deciphered.

Loosening his shoulders, the Omega finds himself looking at his friends again.

“Well, it does help that some of hard stuff is out of the way between myself and Slade. There was no worrying about whether Slade would care that I was an Omega, or if he could ever understand why I do what I do. Slade inexplicably just knew all those things without me ever having to tell him any of it,” Oliver says, glancing over to his suit and bow.

Dig hums in the background.

“Yesterday, for the first time in a long time though, you didn’t put on that hood and go out jumping off of rooftops. You went out with Slade and stayed out with him all night. Regardless of what I might think of Slade, I think he’s good for you, Oliver. He seems to make you happy, and if you feel like you can be yourself around him, by all means, see him. I’m not going to stand in the way of you and Slade,” Dig states.

Oliver unexpectedly finds himself letting out a sigh of relief, hand brushing over his sternum.

Felicity double takes between him and Diggle.

“Really, Dig?” Felicity exclaims.

“So we’re just going to let Oliver off the hook for lying the past month and let him be on his way?”

The Beta’s heel begins to click on the floor again.

Before Dig can respond, Oliver walks over to Felicity and grabs her by the wrist before the Beta can work out what he’s doing.

Scowling at him, Felicity goes to jerk back in his light grasp.

“What are you—” the Beta immediately goes to protest but goes quiet as Oliver looks her dead in the eyes.

“Thank you for understanding, _Felicity_ ,” Oliver states.

His eyes probably looked hard and steely but he wills a small smile onto his face.

He releases Felicity’s wrist and the Beta promptly flops back down in her seat.

Oliver goes to make his way up the stairs but is promptly halted.

“You are not off the hook at all, Mister,” Felicity warns.

Throwing a sideways glance to Felicity, Oliver stops just before the staircase in Verdant.

“Dig won’t admit it, but we were both worried sick about you. And, I for one, expect you to be paying for Big Belly Burger for months. Netflix too! I want years worth of subscriptions for like Netflix, Hulu, Amazon Prime, everything! Mhm, and if you’re making time for Slade, make time for us as well! I’ll have you know I give up just about all of my free time and social life for you, Oliver _—_ inside Queen Consolidated and out. I’m constantly surrounded by Alphas and Beta males; I never have anyone to talk to. We Beta females and Omegas need to stick together. I _insist_ you come over to my apartment some time. We should watch like _Mean Omegas_ and _X-Files_. Ok, rant over from me.”

Felicity ends her rambling with a smile on her face and her hands tucked in her lap.

The Omega returns a slight grin to the Beta, not sure for a moment there if he was getting a lecture or not.

Dig says nothing in the background but nods his head in Oliver’s direction.

Mounting the staircase with one foot, Oliver keeps his gaze on Felicity.

“I will… consider it, as long as you’ve not expecting I’ll let you paint my nails or anything. I did not suddenly become a girl or anything overnight,” Oliver deflates.

Scratching a hand into her hair, Felicity practically beams from ear-to-ear.

“I will strongly resist considering it,” the Beta chimes.

Oliver rolls his eyes before continuing to climb the staircase.

“I will see you both later,” Oliver calls, without stopping, “I should probably get home before I have both my mother and Thea on my case.”

Heels hitting the floor and the cry of Felicity’s voice prevents Oliver from immediately wanting to bolt.

“Oliver, wait!

Remaining where he is, Oliver turns around to give the Beta a look with his mouth set into a flat line.

Felicity’s stood at the bottom of the staircase, and with an underarm throw she tosses him something which Oliver easily catches.

Looking at the object in his hand, Oliver immediately realises it’s a can of his Beta-scented cologne. Discrete looking as always with all its logos and prints peeled off.

Glancing back at Felicity, Oliver finds the Beta only grins back at him.

“You forgot your Beta perfume.”

With a shake of his head, Oliver has to restrain himself from wanting to growl at the Beta.

“ _Thank you, Felicity,_ ” Oliver strains, before promptly darting out the room and removing himself from his friends sights.


	11. Aftershocks I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woops, so this took longer to write than expected. I apologise to all my lovely readers for the long wait and thank you all for continuing to support this fic.
> 
> This chapter retreads parts of _Blast Radius _(2.10), hence some of the dialogue and actions are lifted from the episode.__
> 
> This chapter also ended up very much being another two-parter, but I hope you enjoy it all the same.

After what had been a relatively slow few weeks, Oliver had been perversely eager when an explosion downtown had went off Saturday evening.

The blast had given Oliver an excuse to slink downstairs out of Verdant, away from Sebastian Blood’s campaigning that was taking place there. Oliver had done his part, said his speech, and so trouble allowed the Omega to don the hood he hadn’t worn for nearly forty-eight hours.

Downtown there hadn’t been much for Oliver to do, no fleeing culprit for him to try and chase down. People had still been trapped on the fifth floor of the burning building though, and so Oliver had maneuvered his way into the building to help ensure the casualties for the night remained zero.

Felicity did reach out to Detective Lance for him however, which would hopefully provide them with some intel on what sort of explosives they were dealing with. Which could then possibly lead back to who they were dealing with.

Waiting for the Detective several rooftops away from their usual meeting spot, Oliver is slightly perplexed when his phone briefly vibrates in his pocket.

Usually Dig and Felicity would just ring him via his Bluetooth if they had something to report, not text him. Thea and his mother had long since given up on trying to drag him back home at a reasonable hour, so it likely wasn’t from one of them either. Slade also usually knew better than to text him when he was out on the streets as well, inexplicably the Alpha somehow just knowing when he’d be ‘out’.

Pulling his phone out, Oliver is unsurprised to see the message he’s gotten is from Slade.

**_Hey_** **,** the message from the Alpha simply read.

Rolling his eyes, Oliver briefly wonders why the Alpha thought _now_ would be a good time to text him.

Oliver’s phone read _6:23 PM_ , which meant in seven minutes he was supposed to be meeting up with Detective Lance.

Brows furrowed, the Omega awkwardly types out a quick response to the Alpha with gloved fingers and sends it.

**_Oliver: I’m busy._ **

Immediately, the device buzzes again in Oliver’s hand.

**_Slade: No, you’re not._ **

Irritation spurs in Oliver as his jaw nearly hits the floor.

_What the hell, Slade?_

Fist clenching at his side, the Omega growls under his breath, wondering why he was even bothering to text the Alpha back when he could just ignore him.

**_Yes, I am_** **,** the Omega writes back.

Glancing up from his phone to the city before him, Oliver is satisfied he’s won the debate between them when his mobile doesn’t promptly go off again. As the Omega is about to put his phone away that hope is swiftly crushed though as the device vibrates once more.

The Omega glares at his phone like he would at the Alpha if he were here right now.

**_Slade: You’re standing on a building across from the Bisque Museum, texting me. That doesn’t exactly qualify as busy. :P_ **

At the end of Slade’s sentence there was a little smiley face attached to the message. It was yellow with its tongue sticking straight out in one of those _na-nana-nana-nah_ teasing motions kids would usually make.

With a shake of his head, Oliver grimaces.

Slade Wilson had just sent him an emoji!

Pulling up the tab of emojis on his own phone, Oliver quickly begins to search for the finger or something else childishly offensive to rival Slade’s stupid, smiley face emoji when he notices it.

Blinking, Oliver re-reads the Alpha’s message.

_How does Slade know I’m near the Bisque Museum?_

The Omega instantly has his phone up to his ear, calling the older man.

As his mobile starts dialling, the Omega hears a faint ringing coming from behind him. He recognises it as a phone’s default ringtone, that series of sounds like a xylophone being played.

With a _beep_ , Oliver’s mobile goes silent, symbolising Slade had declined the call. Oliver instantly knows why however as the xylophone-like noises in the background also fall quiet.

Heavy footfalls emanate from behind him.

“How is my favorite, most beautiful Omega doing?” a husky voice quips, movement seemingly have come to a halt behind Oliver.

“He was fine until now,” Oliver responds flatly.

Slade had been following him... how typical of the Alpha.

Releasing a snort of air out of his nose, Oliver swiftly shoves his phone back in his pocket before turning to meet Slade.

It takes Oliver a moment to process just what it is he’s looking at, wide-eyed and confused by the _thing_ he knew was Slade.

The mask is the first thing Oliver notices, distinctly split down the middle between black and orange like the balaclavas Slade and his partner once wore. In fact, practically everything about Slade’s attire was similar to what the Alpha who had first ever tortured Oliver wore.

Kevlar encompassed Slade’s chest in the form of a bulletproof vest; thick padding encased the Alpha’s knees, elbows and up his arms over what looked like equally cumbersome layers of clothing.

Patches of vibrant orange across the suit broke up Slade’s attire of otherwise pitch black. Various bands and holsters wrapped around the Alpha’s arms, legs, and waist, likely containing ammunition, firearms and knives. Two sword hilts peeked out over Slade’s shoulders.

A bandolier was slung slash-style over Slade’s chest containing three thick canisters, and Oliver knows just by looking at them that _those are fucking grenades_. Oliver hoped they were smoke canisters, but in general Slade’s whole attire was just unnerving him.

Slade’s scent wafting over his nose manages to prevent Oliver from feeling too cowed by his Alpha’s appearance though, the older man’s heavy musk immediately lulling a sense of calm over him. It reminded Oliver of being wrapped up in Slade’s warm embrace, the older man’s thick arms around his waist.

“How’d you find me?” Oliver blurts out, after realising he’d been dead quiet even since he’d laid eyes upon Slade.

A chuckle escapes the Alpha as Slade loiters over him, the Alpha’s head flicking to one side.

_Yes, that’s Slade_ , _that’s… My Alpha,_ Oliver thinks to himself, observing the Alpha’s mannerisms as Slade closed the distance between them.

A smirk was surely plastered over Slade’s face right now, even if the Omega couldn’t see it beneath the mask he wore.

“Last time I frisked you, I stuck a tracker under the sole of your left boot. I’m not fond of chasing you around,” Slade acknowledges with a slight laugh.

A growl vibrates up Oliver’s throat at Slade’s admittance.

It was probably etched into Slade’s very psyche to want to be protective of him but the Alpha was somewhat starting to overstep his boundaries.

Showing up in Verdant and Oliver’s house unannounced, making impressions of Oliver’s keys, the camera bugs Oliver had long ago found and pulled from around Verdant, and now the Alpha was further trying to keep tabs on him with the GPS tracker in his boot.

It made Oliver’s blood boil but the Omega supposed he should allow Slade an opportunity to explain himself. After all, he knew Slade would have made the copies of his keys and stuck the tracker in his shoe—along with likely most of everything else that Oliver considered somewhat possessive of Slade—shortly after Oliver decided to lure Slade into bed with him and they were still at odds with one another.

At that point in their relationship, Oliver also wouldn’t have been above spying on Slade, if he hadn’t been so conflicted about merely setting foot in the Alpha’s presence.

_Slade deserves the benefit of the doubt._

“That still doesn’t explain why you’re here,” Oliver says more softly after a moment.

Shaking his head, Slade leans his weight on one leg.

Given that the Alpha’s mask betrayed only a black and orange face of indifference—or perhaps it was malice—Oliver was sincerely thankful for Slade’s, somewhat irritating, but apparent body language.

“ _Tch_ ,” Slade releases a noise of annoyance.

“Why the hell do you think I’m here? To see you, dumbass. You’re busy, I know, pretending you know how to run a fortune five-hundred company and playing overwatch to yah city every night.”

The Alpha’s accent became more thick and husky as he spoke until Slade shook his head again and Oliver imagined now Slade would be gritting his teeth.

As Slade re-focuses his attention back on Oliver, the older man takes a short stride so he’s now fully inside the Omega’s guard.

“But fuck yah and yah tight-ass schedule. Nothing stopping me from being here right now with yah. And if you tell me to bounce, I’ll shadow yah and ain’t nothin’ yah can do about it.”

Irritation clung to Slade’s words but even as Oliver felt the Alpha was half-spitting his words at him, a jolt of warmth seeped through the Omega’s chest.

Oliver takes a moment to absorb Slade’s appearance.

There wasn’t much he could gauge from his Alpha’s eyes as Slade was slightly hunched over and not meeting his gaze. One of Slade’s fists was clenched at his side.

Slade’s demeanour instantly reminds Oliver of himself, often how he felt in the Alpha’s presence. A little awkward and uneasy in his actions, covering up his unsurety with bitter words and hostility.

Looking at the Alpha right now pulled at Oliver’s heartstrings.

_Is Slade as conflicted as I am when it comes to admitting we want to see each other?_

_Yes_ , instantly was the word whispered through Oliver’s mind. And with it, Oliver felt instantly more at ease about what he was about to say to Slade.

“I understand, Slade,” Oliver acknowledges, after a moment of pondering over his thoughts.

The words come out deeper and with a tad of hostility that Oliver hadn’t intended due to his vocal changer. Regardless, Slade jacks up straight upon hearing Oliver’s words, allowing the Omega to meet his eyes.

There was almost nothing Oliver could discern from Slade’s near-on black eyes while it was dark out, but the Omega allows the side of his lips to quirk up into the beginning of a smile. Hopefully he was telling the Alpha what he wanted to hear.

It wasn’t in Oliver anymore to want to push his Alpha away.

“You can stay.”

Alpha releasing a low growl of what Oliver assumed was approval, Slade then folds his arms over his chest.

“It was either that or I would have continued to shadow yah, kid,” Slade says jovially.

Shaking his head, Oliver decides not to think about the implication of Slade’s words. Of course, the Alpha was bound to have followed him more than just this one time.

“Regardless…” Oliver starts sternly, pushing all other thoughts out of his mind.

“We can talk more about… whatever, if you’re just going to show up like this often. But now is not a good time to talk, or anything for that matter. There was… The explosion last night, I’m supposed to be meeting someone to try and get some intel on it.”

The Alpha nods, unfolding his arms and then reaches a hand out between them that wraps around Oliver’s forearm.

Instinctively, Oliver finds his own hand palming around Slade’s wrist as their bodies gravitated towards one another.

He couldn’t feel Slade too well beneath the rigid clothing he wore but the comfort his Alpha brought him… Oliver relished it all the same.

Adjusting his footing, Oliver leans his head forward slightly without even realising his eyes have grown half-lidded.

It was in the back of his mind that he had to go see Detective Lance in a moment but Oliver waited for his Alpha’s affirmation to do so.

“I take it I am to remain out of sight and out of mind while you do that?” Slade asks with a quiet rumble up his throat.

Cold steel presses against Oliver’s forehead as his vision is engulfed with black and orange.

The Omega’s tongue darts out over his lips, wetting them.

“Yes,” Oliver says automatically.

Fingers rub into the side of Oliver’s arm as Slade moves slightly, re-pressing his cold, steely mask against Oliver’s forehead.

“I will remain dutifully shadowing you then.”

Pressing his free hand into Slade’s chest, Oliver has to force his head upwards and nudge Slade out of the way slightly. Breaking the quiet moment that had so easily and unexpectedly fallen over them as Oliver took a step back from Slade.

Why and how Oliver got like this when he was with Slade, he didn’t know. How had things changed between him and Slade so much in the past forty-eight hours that he was even willing to let these emotions of his show?

Oliver wanted to feel Slade right now, force his hungry mouth onto the Alpha’s own, and know the Alpha was truly here with him right now. Oliver wanted his and Slade’s flesh and contact bared to one another, not with all these accursed chains of clothing between them. He wanted the heat and desire that Slade sparked in him. The older man’s scent overpowering and dominating Oliver’s whole world.

He wanted to do things now that his younger self _didn’t_ but then regretted not doing.

Regardless… now was not the time for the Omega to indulge in his feelings. Mentally, Oliver kicks himself for allowing his train of thought to get away from him like that.

Releasing a deep exhale, Oliver meets Slade’s gaze.

“Just stay here. I should be back in five.”

The Omega’s voice comes out stern but he squeezes Slade’s wrist still grasping him. Hopefully letting the Alpha know that this was hard for him too.

Slade seems to understand as the Alpha immediately retracts his arm away from him.

“I will eagerly await so,” Slade practically purrs, shoving his hands into his pockets.

With a nod, Oliver manages to force his attention away from his Alpha and move to jump off the rooftop they were on.

_Five minutes,_ Oliver tells himself. _I can keep my mind away from Slade for five minutes._

xxxxxxxx

Five minutes. The five minutes Oliver had promised himself and Slade that he’d be gone from the Alpha, quickly turned into an indefinite amount of time. As Oliver conversed with Detective Lance about their resident bomber, an explosion rocked the Starling City town hall not even several streets from them. It was after hours on a Sunday night so Oliver hoped the building was uninhabited as he was immediately  prioritising the root of the problem.

Speeding off on his bike that’d been parked in the dark, Oliver had to push Slade’s whereabouts—if the Alpha was still following him—to the back of his mind as he was chasing down their serial bomber.

Thoughts of Slade weighed heavily on Oliver’s mind that he couldn’t shake though; and he’s sure his hand had to be white-knuckled around the throttle of his bike.

The Lance Alpha had unfortunately reminded Oliver that Cyrus Gold had murdered several cops—including Lance’s partner—a couple weeks ago. Police had tried to corner Gold at a warehouse downtown and Lance was now all too suspicious of the fact that the Alpha seemed to have known they were coming. Lance suspected there was a leak in the SCPD which further agitated Oliver as he knew somewhere up the track, the rat in the police’s midsts connected back to Slade.

Oliver just didn’t know where.

He thinks the only reason he hadn’t taken notice of Cyrus Gold’s attack on the police earlier was because that event would have transpired during the time that Oliver was simultaneously both grieving and seething over Slade’s ill-intentioned reappearance in his life.

_Dammit_ , Oliver mentally berated himself. This is really where he and Slade needed to have _that_ talk, but Oliver also knew that there was no way he or his Alpha should talk intimately with one another while there was anger on either one of their minds.

The Omega’s scatterbrained thoughts whilst he drove were in no way helped by the fact that Felicity didn’t seem to be able to get a proper and consistent tracking on their serial bomber’s whereabouts. So Felicity’s awkward tracking and directions, plus Oliver’s own diverted attention nearly ended up running him smack-dab into a bus.

And so with that failure to catch their criminal, it was somewhat begrudgingly that Oliver found himself pottering around Verdant as he came to realise that Felicity couldn't work her usual magic in order to allow him to find this guy.

The Beta had profusely apologised to Oliver for her shortcoming, but Oliver oddly enough found it reassuring that there was no leftover tension between them since he’d introduced his friends to Slade. That made Oliver feel confident that things were relatively back to normal between himself, Diggle, and Felicity.

But, there was still no way Oliver was telling Felicity about Lance’s request—that he wanted the cell phone records from every cop in his precinct.

Oliver didn’t need to run that task by Felicity because he knew whatever information the Beta unearthed, he’d rather hear it from Slade. Slade who he had promised they’d go over the Alpha’s unwanted skeletons in the closet very soon. Preferably the next time they saw each other under appropriate circumstances.

As Oliver is pulling his jacket on beneath Verdant, his message tones goes off and his phone vibrates in his back pocket. Finishing shoving his arm into the jacket hole, the Omega then actually grimaces when his phone goes off and makes the same sound a second time.

“That Slade or your mother?” Dig asks.

Looking up, Oliver notices the Alpha now leaning against the table the Omega had been supporting himself against. Felicity’s eyes are also certainly on him even as Oliver shrugs away from his friends’ gazes.

For a moment, Oliver thinks to say nothing in response to Dig’s comment but then thinks better of doing so. Not bringing up his relationship with Slade to his friends was almost like making out that their relationship was taboo and unspeakable of… or something like that.

“Slade, most likely, seeing as I gave him the slip before,” Oliver responds after a moment.

Meeting his friends’ attentions, Oliver watches Felicity spring up from where she’d been leaning back and curl her hands around the arms of her chair.

“What! You ditched him?” Felicity exclaims, nearly leaping out of her seat.

Oliver instinctively scrunches up his nose and shoots Felicity a mild glare.

The Omega’s arms fold over his chest.

Noticing Oliver’s death stare, Felicity flops back into her chair and waves her hands in front of her several times.

“Okay, sorry, so totally not like that. This wasn’t a fight-fight kind of slip. You and Slade aren’t supposed to be having problems anymore, you two just got done fighting. Not that that’s any of my business but why’d you give Slade the slip then? What’s the goss?” Felicity rambles.

Folding her hands together in her lap, Felicity offers Oliver a genuine smile.

“Nothing… Nothing really happened, just I saw Slade while I was out, before I had to meetup with Detective Lance. I told him we could talk after I got the intel from Lance, but as you know, then the second explosion went off. So I had to bolt and leave him,” Oliver summaries fairly swiftly.

Felicity nods, tapping a finger to the side of her face and seeming to accept Oliver’s explanation. It’s Diggle beside Oliver who speaks up.

“What do you mean you saw Slade?” Dig asks as Oliver meets his gaze.

Raising a brow, Oliver has to contemplate the meaning of Dig’s words for a second before getting what the Alpha was likely asking him. Dig likely wanted to know how and where Oliver saw Slade when he was out as the Arrow.

“Slade has his own… form of identity concealment. So he just found me up top a building.”

The Alpha hummed his acknowledgment.

“You gonna check your phone then to see if those messages are from Slade? Or can we expect him to come banging down our door shortly?" Dig then comments.

Averting his gaze from Diggle, Oliver scoffs. But as Slade had shown before, he wasn’t above showing up unexpectedly in Verdant or Oliver’s house.

Pulling his phone out of his pocket, Oliver opens his messages to see two new ones from Slade sent just a couple minutes ago.

**_Slade: Where are you?_ **

**_Slade: I mean, are you okay?_ **

The first message briefly annoys Oliver as his eyes trailed over it but then the second one warms Oliver’s heart.

_Slade’s paranoid and worried about how I am._

It reminded Oliver of old times and had Oliver not seen it as Slade thinking he had to protect him, the Omega might have even welcomed his Alpha’s affections.

_I should put Slade on his ass during a spar, teach him that I’m not just some defenceless Omega, kid anymore._

A smile gracing Oliver’s face, the Omega quickly texts back a response.

**_I’m fine, I’ll talk to you when I’m home. Still out._ **

Then the Omega tucks his phone away before turning to his friends.

“Yep, just Slade wondering if I'm alright,” the Omega states, absentmindedly scratching the back of his head.

Diggle leans forward from the table he’d been lying back against.

“Seems like it would be in his nature to do so.”

Oliver says nothing to neither confirm nor deny the Alpha’s comment as the Omega shifts on his feet.

“I probably should head home and give him a call before Slade really does decide to start chasing me. If you guys don’t need anything, I’ll probably head off.”

With that, Oliver said his goodbyes to his friends and began to make his way home where he’d hopefully make a phone call to Slade.

xxxxxxxx

As expected of Oliver’s luck, the moment he’s walked in the door to the Queen Mansion, he’s quickly making an excuse to remove himself from his mother’s presence so he can dart back out again. Because exactly when terrorism was at a relative peak in Starling City—now that Oliver had actual explosives to worry about—Sebastian Blood decided tomorrow night would be a good time to hold a unity rally. As in, invite majority of the city out into an opening where that many people wouldn’t be a difficult target for a bombing.

It’s wasn’t even eight, so Oliver knew he had plenty of time for another outing into the city and could still be home after at a reasonable hour to sleep. Having texted Slade before so that the Alpha knew better than to come bang down his door wondering if Oliver was okay, the Omega confidently headed back out into the night.

Oliver Queen likely wouldn’t be able to talk Sebastian out of recklessly rallying the people of the city together, but where Oliver failed, the Arrow was quite accomplished in getting people to be compliant.

And so that’s how Oliver found himself in Sebastian Blood’s office, unsuccessfully trying to talk the Beta out of a suicidal rally. The Beta had seemed skittish under Oliver’s gaze for a moment—but then again, most people were under the Starling City Vigilante’s watch—,but Sebastian still wouldn’t stand down just because of the idea that his own life was at risk.

 

“And what about the lives of the people coming to your rally?” Oliver prodes sternly, after seemingly exhausting every other option he had of talking Sebastian down from this.

He lingers in the doorway of Sebastian’s office.

“This rally is about Starling City standing up and declaring with one voice that living afraid isn't living. I won't send a contrary message to people telling them to stay home, to stay scared,” the Beta declares, leaning over his desk to speak to Oliver.

Shifting on his feet, Oliver balks at Sebastian’s recklessness.

“I've made my decision,” Sebastian follows-up with, in a tone that left little room for discussion.

Well, at least Oliver knew what he’d be doing tomorrow night at least, most likely attempting to prevent a mass murder in City Plaza.

“That's the thing, alderman,” Oliver sighs, though his exhale is barely noticeable, “whatever happens tomorrow night, it's not up to you.”

Turning on his heel, the Omega is about to retreat into the darkness of the building and make his getaway, but Sebastian stops him. Or rather, what the Beta says does.

“‘Doesn’t have you very well-trained now, does Slade?” Sebastian seemingly quips from behind him.

The hair on the back of Oliver’s neck stands up and his throat unexpectedly tightens as the Omega ceases taking his current stride.

Sebastian had just said _Slade_. Every other word out of the Beta’s mouth may as well have been white noise as all Oliver can focus on is the fact that Sebastian Blood had just brought up _his_ Alpha. And it had to be _his_ Slade because Slade was such an uncommon name that there couldn’t possibly be anyone else the Beta was talking about.

Oliver instantly feels like the temperature in the room has dropped several degrees as he refocuses his attention on the alderman.

“What did you say?” Oliver questions, trying to keep his voice steady.

A stabbing pain pierces through the Omega’s heart as he looks at Sebastian.

Gone was the wariness of the Beta’s appearance at being caught under the Arrow’s glare, and instead it had been replaced by low-hung eyebrows and a grin that showed all teeth on the alderman’s face.

Sebastian looked positively smug and it disturbed Oliver.

“I said,” Sebastian repeats, looking Oliver dead in his eyes, “Slade lets you run around like quite the disobedient little Omega pet.”

_Pet_ , the word echoes in Oliver’s mind.

His right hand clenches around the grip of his bow and his teeth grit together. Unexpectedly Oliver’s gaze finds the floor.

_Slade’s. Disobedient. Little. Omega. Pet._

Fire burns up Oliver’s insides and scorches his veins dry. He has no idea what has just happened but Sebastian knew what he was. That he was an Omega. Did the Beta know he was specifically Slade’s Omega? How? Slade wouldn’t have told anyone about their relationship, would he? And certainly not that the Starling City Vigilante was his _pet_?

Oliver could feel his mind reeling as his brain struggled to wrap itself around what was happening.

Slade’s… pet?

_Pet..._

Something snaps in Oliver and he’s seeing red.

_What the fuck!?_

The Omega doesn’t know how much time has passed but within an instant he’s jacked up to his full height. A snarl vibrates up Oliver’s throat through bared teeth. He can barely think or see straight but Oliver lunges.

With a stride, Oliver leaps up onto the alderman’s desk, sliding his legs over the table’s surface and knocking papers, lamps, and various other apparatus out of the way. Sebastian releases a curse—Oliver thinks—the Beta tripping backwards, things cluttering to the floor along with him. Objects crash to the ground rather loudly as Sebastian lands with his back half against the wall.

Grunts of pain and discomfort escape the alderman yet Oliver doesn’t let up in his approach. Immediately Oliver then throws his feet onto the floor on either side of Sebastian before planting his left foot on the Beta’s chest.

The Beta quickly attempts to raise his right arm but Oliver’s eyes swiftly detect the movement, and the black object in Sebastian’s hand.

Releasing a growl, Oliver kicks the gun out of the Beta’s hand with his foot. The gun clatters off somewhere into the darkness of the Beta’s office.

Sebastian looks up at Oliver with little fear in his eyes, though the Beta’s hands cling to Oliver’s boot still on his chest.

Keeping his boot steady on the alderman’s right pectoral, a pant escapes Oliver. He was positively livid.

How dare anyone imply that he—the Arrow—was some Alpha’s pet or bitch? Let alone that his and Slade’s relationship involved anything of the sort.

"Sure you won't get punished for this, pet?" the Beta asks with a half-laugh.

Oliver growls at the _fucking_ _gall_ of Sebastian, digging the heel of his boot further into the Beta’s chest.

The Beta might have released a squeak of pain but Oliver’s mind barely registered it.

“I’m willing to take my chances,” Oliver answers grimly, continually looming over the Beta.

"What? You going to kill me? 'Going to crush the hopes of the people in this city as well?" Sebastian spits back.

Shock runs through Oliver’s mind at the Beta’s words. He hadn’t consciously thought of seriously hurting the alderman, but any lasting damage to the current and only mayor candidate of the city would likely impact on the city’s people.

_His_ people, the people Oliver had sworn to protect. Whether Oliver liked it or not, Sebastian gave the people of Starling City hope that the Arrow did not.

Grimly, Oliver wonders what he’s doing and almost feels a bit ashamed of himself.

Removing his boot from Sebastian’s chest, Oliver straightens up but doesn’t move from keeping his feet on either side of the Beta. Sebastian instantly shuffles himself farther back into the wall and releases a heavy exhale.

Releasing a snort of air out of his nose, Oliver begins to back off and walk away from Sebastian.

"Don't think I'm doing any of this for you,” Oliver states as he disappears from the Beta’s presence.

xxxxxxxx

Oliver spends a long time lamenting amongst his thoughts as he drives home.

He knows he shouldn’t because whatever Sebastian’s connection to Slade, he knows he won’t like it. If Sebastian had been in cohorts with Slade, it meant the Beta was clearly up to more than just vying to become mayor. Whatever the case, Oliver didn’t think he could trust Sebastian anymore, at least not to be the face of Starling City that gave its people hope.

Somehow Oliver manages to cease his wayward thinking by time he gets home, realising it was doing him more harm than good.

After washing up and collapsing into bed a little after ten, Oliver checks his phone for any messages from Slade. There weren’t any, so the Omega texts his Alpha back, wondering if Slade was possibly still worried about him.

**_Oliver: I’m home._ **

The Alpha’s response is instantaneous.

**_Slade: What took you so long? It’s been over two hours._ **

Rolling his eyes, Oliver looks away from his phone for a moment.

_There he goes with the protective Alpha instincts again._

Flipping over from his side, Oliver settles into a comfortable position in bed lying on his stomach, preparing for Slade to want to chew him out. Lying on his front instantly relaxed the Omega somewhat. His internal organs were all mainly facing down now and Oliver felt far more at ease going to sleep in what he deemed the ‘safest’ position. He felt far less vulnerable to attacks in his sleep when his vital organs were a little more protected.

**_Do you want me to call_** , Oliver asks, thinking that might be the quickest way to get this over with.

Before Oliver even gets a response from Slade, his phone is vibrating in his hand as the older man is calling him.

Answering the call, a deep growl immediately fills the Omega’s ear.

Oliver scowls, propping himself up on two pillows.

“What happened? You said you were fine,” Slade half-barks, voice husky and slightly exasperated.

“Hello to you too, Slade,” Oliver dully responds.

Slade tsks.

“Excuse me for being concerned at my Omega jumping in and out of burning buildings.”

An eyebrow raises on the Omega’s face. He hadn’t mentioned that the other night he’d ducked into a burning building when the first explosion went off.

“Did you follow me last night?” Oliver asks, trying to keep his voice neutral.

“No, it was on the news,” Slade replies calmly, to which Oliver thinks he can believe.

Before Slade’s then back to growling and wanting answers from Oliver.

“Now, answer the question. What happened?”

Oliver sighs.

“Slade, _I’m fine_. Nothing happened.”

Before the Omega goes to continue on his train of thought, explaining to his Alpha what he’d been up to, Oliver mentally pauses.

_Should I mention Sebastian to Slade? Or at least what I’d been doing earlier? Not necessarily what Sebastian said?_

There was no way Oliver wanted to relay to Slade that Sebastian implied the Arrow was Slade’s pet bitch.

Mulling it over for a moment, Oliver figures telling the Alpha about Sebastian’s rally would at least inform Slade where he’d been tommorrow night. Oliver wouldn’t pry Slade for details at this present stage, but maybe at the mention of Sebastian, Slade would say something.

Swallowing around a lump in his throat, Oliver opens his mouth again to speak.

“Sebastian Blood’s holding a unity rally tomorrow night in City Plaza. I paid him a visit as the Arrow and tried to convince him that the idea’s suicidal. He wouldn’t listen though, so I guess I know what I’m doing tomorrow night.”

Slade lets out a heavy exhale at Oliver’s words, and the Omega thinks the Alpha might disclose something.

“ _Fine,”_ Slade rasps, his voice almost sounding strained, “as long as you’re okay. I’ll probably see you tomorrow night then.”

“You will,” Oliver affirms.

“Just… take care of yourself for me, will yah, kid?” Slade sighs.

Not even moments after those words have left the Alpha’s mouth, Slade’s hung up on Oliver.

The Alpha wasn’t good with saying goodbye to Oliver in-person or over the phone so it hardly surprised the Omega to suddenly have his phone abruptly cut out on him. What did disturb Oliver though was that Slade sounded almost antsy there for a moment, and the Alpha telling Oliver to take care of himself? It was almost like Slade was anticipating something bad to happen.

Oliver brushes his fingers over the back of his phone, wondering if Slade intended to reveal his relationship with Sebastian to him or not. Though Oliver could understand if the Alpha would be reluctant to do so over the phone.

Dropping his phone onto his bedside table, Oliver attempts to sleep despite the wary thoughts filling his head.

xxxxxxxx

Slade growls, irritated, turning over in bed for what felt like the umpteenth time in such a short period of time.

Sweat coated the sheets beneath Slade’s frame, but it was an insignificant discomfort that Slade’s mind barely registered.

_He knows_ , Slade thinks to himself.

Oliver knew _something_ , but Slade didn’t know what!

Raking his blunt fingernails over his arm, Slade attempts to ground himself in the present, rather than his own thoughts.

His skin was sweaty and uncomfortable as since getting off the phone from Oliver, the Alpha had been paranoid and sweating in his stress. The Alpha wasn’t sure how much time had passed since then. He kept his bedroom shrouded in darkness when he slept.

Biting his bottom lip, Slade attempts to compose his thoughts.

Just based off what Oliver had said to Slade that made the Alpha think Oliver knew more than he was letting on about Sebastian. Or was that just Slade’s paranoia taking effect? Oliver really hadn’t said anything to suggest he knew of Slade’s and Sebastian’s relationship… had he?

Splitting the skin of his bottom lip between his teeth, Slade growls.

He didn’t know, he just didn’t know!

The Omega couldn’t know, could he? If Oliver knew or had suspicions about Sebastian, Isabel—the seeds of destruction Slade had sown in Starling City and now desperately wished he hadn’t—, then the Omega possibly could have hated Slade. Or at the very least Oliver’s opinion of him might have changed, and Slade couldn’t bare for that to happen after finally getting Oliver to speak to him once more.

Blood seeps down Slade’s chin as he keeps his teeth dug into his lip.

His heart sped up in his chest and Slade could hear his blood rush through his skull.

Slade would much rather tell Oliver his deeply kept secrets himself, that way the Alpha could better try and influence his Omega’s opinion of him. And Slade had avoided doing so, for the most part, because he knew there was no closing that Pandora’s box once he opened it.

His skin was practically crawling at the mere thought that Oliver _knew_.

Of course, Slade knew that it was his own negligence that was going to be his undoing. He hadn’t wanted to do anything regarding Sebastian and Isabel because Slade’s solution would have just been to outright kill them and have them disappear. Oliver never would have approved of that though, so Slade had been content to just do nothing until he could properly converse with the Omega about it.

Which looked to now be a big fucking mistake.

Gritting his teeth, Slade growls.

Sebastian was a bastard and had been vying to get rid of the Arrow since the beginning, so it wouldn’t surprise Slade at all to think that the Beta had said something to Oliver that incriminated him. The Beta had that trained dog of his as well (the only one so far that had survived the Mirakuru injections)—Cyrus Gold—that he’d had nearly kill Oliver not just once, but twice.

No matter the cost, Slade could not allow Sebastian or Isabel to destroy his relationship with Oliver. Even if the cost was that Slade himself damaged Oliver’s trust.

With a snarl, Slade springs off his stomach and onto his haunches.

His skin itched, his whole body was on fire, and his head pounded—he couldn’t think straight aside from the fact that he knew what he had to do.

The time for negligence was over, the time for violence was now.

A part of Slade was faintly aware that he wasn’t thinking straight but that part of Slade was small, insignificant.

_He’ll never approve of this, you know?_

Slade shakes his head.

Fuck Oliver’s approval, he cared more for his Omega’s protection and life.

His burning, boiling rage easily crushed that insignificant voice in his head out.

Its words stuck in his mind though.

Crawling from his bed, Slade sought out to do something he’d likely later regret but would very much enjoy doing so in that moment.

xxxxxxxx

On Monday morning, coming into Queen Consolidated, Oliver slips Felicity an envelope on her desk which the Beta promptly tears opens.

“Consider this my apology,” Oliver says, meeting Felicity’s face with a slight smile as she empties the envelope of its contents.

Oliver had gathered its contents over Saturday afternoon and Sunday and upon opening it the Beta found a yearly subscription to every online streaming service Oliver could think of, as well as a general shopping gift voucher as Oliver didn’t really know what Felicity would want beyond 24/7 access to movies and TV shows.

Looming for a second beside Felicity’s desk, Oliver waits for the Beta’s response to his gift as Felicity has her head down and her hands poring over the various gift cards.

Dig is standing further into the room near Oliver’s desk—the Alpha playing the part of dutiful bodyguard—but Oliver could feel the Alpha’s eyes wandering over his and Felicity’s interactions.

For a moment Oliver’s chest feels tight at the idea that Felicity might still be pissed off about the fact that he kept secrets from her and Dig for so long. Nothing much had been said about the subject since Oliver had assumed he’d made amends with his friends Saturday morning, yet Oliver knew he also was sometimes oblivious to his friends’ personal feelings.

But Oliver manages to breath a mental sigh of relief when Felicity sweeps the Omega’s gifts into a drawer of her desk, and then turns to Oliver and beams.

“Now that you’ve removed that stick from up your ass, let’s do something sometime,” Felicity quips light-heartedly.

With a snort, Oliver averts his gaze from Felicity but can’t help that the sides of his lips remain quirked.

“Don’t push it,” Oliver states, beginning to walk away from where Felicity is situated and over to his own desk.

“Oh, I intend to,” the Beta chimes.

Oliver remains silent at the Beta’s response though—sure there was no way he’d be avoiding Felicity’s desire for them to do something together—to which Dig seems to smirk at him for as Oliver wanders past the Alpha.

"'Didn't think you'd actually go through with that one,” Dig remarks.

The Omega’s first response is to shake his head, not exactly sure what Dig was getting at. That the Alpha hadn’t expected him to actually bend to Felicity’s will and offer her like Netflix subscriptions as an apology for his being lying dick.

Halting just before his desk, Oliver turns to meet Dig’s gaze.

"It's worse being on her bad side than yours,” Oliver admits, before settling into his chair.

“I heard that!” Felicity calls from where she’s hung over her laptop.

Oliver merely shrugs his shoulders at Dig.

“‘Glad you two are back to normal, at least,” Dig offers, as Oliver begins to _attempt_ to look at paperwork.

xxxxxxxx

It’s around midday when Oliver is still looking over forms and statements he doesn’t understand when Felicity answers a phone call from downstairs and promptly excuses herself from Oliver and Dig’s presence. Much to Oliver’s annoyance as he’d been previously picking the Beta’s brain about what most of the details of these sheets of paper meant or getting her to Google things for him.

Like who and what are company stakeholders? Does Oliver need to know or care about them? He didn’t know!

And so, while Felicity may have specialised in IT, she still knew more about business and the like’s terminology than Oliver did. The Omega thinks she’d probably even make better business decisions than he did. If it wasn’t for Miss Rochev pulling a lot of the company’s strings that didn’t directly need oversight from the company CEO, Oliver thinks his father’s company would have collapsed already just under his own inability to run it.

Was it too late for Oliver to back out of this and just offer up the position of CEO back to his mother, now that she was definitely not going to prison? Having Moira Queen as the face of Queen Consolidated might have raised only more trouble for their family though, so could Oliver just at least dump the paperwork back onto his mom, or someone else who knew how to deal with it? He was so not above admitting his own lack of business intelligence to his mother, who clearly must know it considering Oliver went to four colleges and was virtually kicked out from every one.

All these thoughts sit and stew among Oliver’s head until the clicking of heels along the tiled floor alert the Omega to Felicity’s likely return.

Snapping his head up, Oliver can’t help that he quirks an eyebrow at Felicity walking back into the room, specifically the bouquet of flowers she was carrying.

With a grin plastered across her face, Felicity walks up to Oliver’s desk and plonks the flowers down beside the Omega’s pile of paperwork.

“These are for you.”

Shaking his head, Oliver keeps his eyes on the bouquet.

“What do you mean, me? You just got called to collect them. Beside nobody sends me flowers,” Oliver disputes.

The Omega didn’t think anyone had ever sent him flowers in his life, though Oliver had given a few sets—mostly in attempts to get in one girl or another’s pants.

“Mmhm,” Felicity mumbles a sound of disapproval whilst remaining stood by Oliver’s desk, “they were addressed to me but they’re clearly for you. Look at the note that came with them.”

Felicity tugs on a small folded card attached onto a thread of string wound around the base of the bouquet.

Immediately Oliver leans forward and looks at the card.

On the front of the card it read _Hyacinth_ (which was presumably the name of the flowers in the bouquet as there was a picture of the same flora on the card), and upon opening the card Oliver found:

_Please make sure K gets these. Tell ‘em to Google it._

_—  W_

The words on the inside of the card were all written in cursive but the letters were thick and blocked like the writer had pressed down slightly hard with their pen.

Warmth heats up Oliver’s cheeks as the Omega flops back down in his chair.

There was no way these flowers were from—no, _he_ wasn’t like that, was he?

“That means nothing,” Oliver growls slightly, folding his arms over his chest and averting his gaze from the flowers.

‘No way in hell would Slade Wilson send him a bouquet of flowers. They couldn’t be from Slade so Oliver had no reason to have these butterflies in his stomach or to feel all flustered, right?

“Are they from Slade?” Dig asks from where he’s been leaning against the wall, merely observing Felicity and Oliver.

“No!” Oliver cries, though at the same time as him, Felicity also voices her own response and practically talks over him.

“I totally think so! Isn’t that cute? Slade’s sending Oliver flowers. Like, when I got the call from downstairs that there’d been a delivery for me, it was super weird because nobody sends me anything—except maybe my mom. But when I collected and actually saw the flowers, it was even more odd because they weren’t addressed from anyone, they’d merely been delivered to reception by a florist company.

Then I read the note though and in it, Slade refers to Oliver as ‘K’, which must mean kid as that’s what Slade calls Oliver. And then I saw that it was signed ‘W’ and Slade’s last name is Wilson, so I knew they had to be from Slade and meant for Oliver. Slade probably just had them addressed and delivered to me though because he didn’t want to embarrass Oliver by having everyone here at Queen Consolidated know that Oliver’s being sent flowers.”

Seemingly without taking a breath, Felicity gushes out all her rambling, before smiling and scratching the back of her head when she’s finished.

Blinking dumbfounded, Oliver barely realises Diggle looking over his desk at the note attached to the flowers.

“‘You know, I think I agree with Felicity. It is addressed to ‘K’ and from ‘W’,” Dig acknowledges, drawing himself away from Oliver’s desk.

“See, I told you!” Felicity remarks.

Scowling at the way his friends seemed to be against him on this, Oliver nudges the bouquet of flowers farther away from himself.

“I don’t care who they’re addressed to or from. Slade wouldn’t send me flowers. He’s just not that kind of Alpha,” Oliver addresses calmy.

Releasing an exhale of air out of his nose, Oliver attempts to compose his thoughts. Slade didn’t and wouldn’t send him flowers, the mere idea of it was ridiculous. The Alpha was rough around the edges and used to more often than not, kick the shit out of Oliver rather than offer him any sort of praise. Certainly not the kind of guy Oliver would expect to send flowers.

Despite Oliver’s mind telling him the flowers couldn’t have been from Slade, Oliver’s heart couldn’t help but want to believe Felicity’s logic. Besides, no one would send _Beta_ male Oliver Queen flowers, now would they? But Omega male Oliver Queen… well it was far more acceptable to send flowers to an Omega male, now wasn’t it?

“Why do you think Slade wouldn’t send you flowers?”

Dig’s words draw Oliver’s attention to the Alpha.

“I mean, you know him better than we do. But seeing as you and Slade seemed to have just got done with… a lot of arguing, it shouldn’t seem out of place or weird that he’d want to send you something,” Dig then adds.

Felicity is quick to then pipe up and add her two cents.

“Ooh, and in the note, Slade is telling you to Google it, Oliver. Maybe he’s telling you to Google the flowers because flowers can have meanings, and in the 1800s Alphas would even try to court Omegas by sending them bouquets of flowers with various meanings.”

A low growl escapes Oliver as he fixes the Beta with a quick glare.

Waving her hands in front of herself rapidly, Felicity appears to get Oliver’s message.

“Okay, too far, I’ll shut up now,” Felicity attempts to amend.

Oliver sighs, scratching the back of his head absentmindedly, not sure what to make of these flowers.

“Look, as far as I’ve ever known, Slade’s not like _this_ ,” Oliver states, “Like he _might_ have sent them, but I’m texting him before I assume anything else.”

With that said, Oliver grabs out his phone out of his pocket and uses it to take a photo of the bouquet of flowers still currently occupying his desk. He texts the image to Slade along with a message that said:

**_So what the hell are these?_ **

Which was probably a bit blunt and harsh on Oliver’s part but the Omega felt no grief sending the Alpha that message when Slade had most likely sent him these flowers that flustered him so much.

Diggle and Felicity are silent in the background much to Oliver’s peace of mind.

The Omega isn’t sure how much time passes but after a couple moments of staring at his phone—which was a couple moments too long considering Slade was usually quite quick to respond to his texts—Oliver dumps his phone back on the table.

“Fine. I give up. Slade’s not responding and he’s being ‘all mysterious’.”

As Oliver drops his mobile back on his desk, he takes a proper look again at the flowers Slade had presumably sent him (which were admittedly kinda hard to appreciate when the mere notion that his Alpha had sent him flowers fuddled him).

There were about half a dozen or more hyacinth (Oliver’s presuming that’s what they were) in the bouquet. The hyacinth were a blueish-purple and although there were only a few individual stems of flowers in the bouquet that Oliver could see, each stem was covered in small flowers that bloomed out in a bell-like shape.

Rather than being wrapped in cellophane like a bouquet commonly was, the hyacinths were supported in a long cylinder-like container that covered up most of the flowers’ stems. The base supporting the flowers was horizontally covered in white and purple diamantes.

Fingering his thumb over one of the flower’s waxy-like petals, Oliver’s brain finally seems to register the sweet, heady, almost overpowering scent of the plant now that he was leaning in close to it. Which didn’t surprise Oliver as while he had kept his promise to Slade and hadn’t taken any suppressants since Friday, he was still coating himself in Beta spray and hence his sense of smell likely wasn’t what it should be.

Pulling himself back from where he’d been briefly admiring the flowers, Oliver couldn’t help wonder again if and why Slade would send him something like this? Sure, the flowers were pretty, Oliver could admit that, but what gave Slade the impression that Oliver was the kind of Omega who could really appreciate flowers?

Flopping back into his chair, Oliver notices Felicity’s eyes on him from across the room.

“So… are you gonna Google what those flowers mean or what?” the Beta inquires with a hint of playfulness in her voice.

Oliver scowls and he hears what sounds like Dig having a small chuckle to himself in the background.

Pulling the note off from the string it had been attached to around the base of the bouquet, Oliver pockets the small card before re-focusing his attention on Felicity.

“Yeah, maybe after you come help me get through all this paperwork. And can you put the flowers over on that table in the corner, they’re taking up my paperwork space,” Oliver states in a tone that left little room for discussion.

Watching Felicity get up to assist him, Oliver thinks to himself he’d work out whatever his Alpha was trying to tell him by sending him these flowers in his own time.

xxxxxxxx

It’s after five and Slade still hasn’t texted Oliver back when the Omega decides he’s given the illusion of doing enough work for the day and now it was time to depart from Queen Consolidated.

Oliver was sitting in the backseat of the car as Dig drove them to Verdant. Felicity and Dig occupied themselves with inane chatter, much to Oliver’s delight as his mind was now drifting back to his Alpha.

The Omega almost wanted to pinch himself at the unexpectedly thought of and referred to Slade as _his_. _His_ Alpha, who he kept thinking of as _his_.

Twisting his hands across his lap, Oliver supposed it was only natural he thought of Slade as his Alpha. They were Bonded, so it wasn’t like Oliver and Slade weren’t exactly bound to one another to some extent.

_If Slade’s mine… I guess that makes me Slade’s then._

Was Oliver okay with that though?

Glancing at his phone for a moment, Oliver is unsurprised to still see no response from his Alpha.

_Yeah… I guess I’m okay with that._

Immediately, Oliver’s mind is reminded of the flowers that Slade had sent him. He’d left them at Queen Consolidated, not really sure what else to do with them, but had delegated watering them to Felicity because Oliver wasn’t really sure how to keep a plant alive.

As Felicity and Dig chat in the front seats—and Oliver had already briefed them about Sebastian Blood’s rally that was happening tonight—the Omega figured now was as good a time as any to Google the meaning of the hyacinths.

Though Oliver does wonder if there was underlining message to the flowers Slade had sent him, or if the Alpha had merely wrote _‘Google it’_ on the note accompanying the flowers for another reason.

Browsing for a few moments on his phone, Oliver finds the main thing that comes up when he searches for the meaning of hyacinths is something about someone in Greek mythology who got killed. Which Oliver fails to think has anything to do with what Slade would be implying sending the hyacinths to him.

Briefly Oliver wonders where Slade even got these flowers from and pulls the folded up card out of his pant pocket. Turning it over, Oliver notices in small white text on the back of the card it read _Amor Fati Flower Arrangements._

Googling the name of the florist company plus hyacinths lead to Oliver looking at the company’s website, specifically the bouquet of hyacinths they sold. The Omega notices the florist company was only a street or so away from Queen Consolidated, but also that there was a standard price tag of $99.99 attached to the hyacinth bouquet.

For some reason, embarrassment instantly washes over Oliver.

_$99.99, that’s a hundred bucks! Slade spent $100 on flowers for me, likely not including the postage, and I can barely even seem to appreciate those flowers._

Somewhat mortified with himself, Oliver glances back down at his phone to notice a description underneath the hyacinth flower bouquet’s listed features.

_Purple hyacinths nearly always symbolise sorrow and should be sent as a way of expressing one’s sadness. Sending hyacinths is a way to express an apology and ask for forgiveness._

Well… that made more sense to Oliver than some guy who was accidently killed in Greek mythology.

Oliver ponders what Slade was apologising for though. Maybe it was for all the fights and arguments they’d had only the past weeks, or that Slade felt like he’d ruined their dinner on Friday night by getting emotional.

He didn’t really know… but regardless, Oliver didn’t feel like his Alpha had anything to apologise or ask forgiveness for. There wasn’t anything that Oliver could think of that currently bothered him about his relationship with Slade other than the fact that he and Slade needed to have an important talk about what the Alpha had been doing when he’d first arrived in Starling City.

Maybe that’s what Slade was apologising for, that they hadn’t had that all too important chat yet… or maybe Oliver was just reading into these flowers meaning too much.

Shaking his head and trying to rid his mind of the thoughts in it, Oliver settles for sending Slade another text as he could see the car approaching Verdant outside the window.

**_Okay, sorry about before. But thanks for the flowers, old man. I did Google them and I_ ** **think _I get what you mean by them._**

With that message sent, Oliver thinks to himself he’d bother Slade about the meaning of the hyacinths when he likely saw him tonight at Sebastian’s rally.

xxxxxxxx

Felicity managed to work her magic in tracking their resident serial bomber, a.k.a. Shrapnel, based on the bomb remnants they got from Lance which traced back to an online government hate group. This in turn allowed Felicity to pin down an address at a souvenir store—where Shrapnel seemed to spend a lot of his time—for Oliver to visit while the Omega sent Dig down to Sebastian’s rally, not sure where their serial bomber would currently be.

At the souvenir shop, as expected of Oliver’s luck lately, not only was Shrapnel not there but he’d left behind a trap for Oliver in the form of a crisscrossed laser security system which would detonate explosives in the wall upon any obstruction of the laser’s lights. The plaza was also already rigged with the explosives which hardly helped Oliver as by time Felicity assisted Oliver to get himself free of the store’s dangerous trap, the Omega had already wasted potentially precious time on what ended up being a dead end.

By time Oliver reached City Plaza, after urging Felicity to go there as well and help Dig, Diggle had just been shot in the shoulder by Shrapnel. But at least then Shrapnel had put himself in the Arrow’s sights and made himself a rather straightforward criminal to take down after Oliver had given chase to him.

Shrapnel had still managed to detonate a minor explosion at the rally, but it was almost insignificant compared to the disaster Oliver could have imagined. Sitting beneath Verdant watching the news, Oliver was content to learn that there were currently no injuries reported at the rally and Shrapnel had been taken into custody.

After urging Dig to go home and rest his shoulder once they’d dug the bullet out of him, and then shooing Felicity away with the excuse that he’d be leaving shortly, Oliver sat alone in Verdant.

Thea had texted him that their mother got a fright at the rally when a massive beam— caught in Shrapnel’s explosion—nearly stuck them. Luckily Roy was there and apparently had enough sense to pull his mother and Thea out of the way.

Oliver had used the excuse to Felicity that he shouldn’t hang around Verdant and should just head home to check on his mom, but really Oliver intended to do no such thing.

Looking at his phone, Oliver noticed it was _8:15 PM_ and Slade still hadn’t responded to his messages all day. Which in itself might not have been all that weird, but Oliver was also 99% certain that Slade hadn’t been at the rally tonight either. The Alpha apparently had put a tracker in Oliver’s left boot (which the Omega had looked at Sunday evening and it was there under the sole), so really Slade probably could have cornered Oliver wherever he was and whenever he was out on the streets.

Slade didn’t though, and that unnerved the Omega.

Last night, on the phone to the Alpha as well, Oliver was sure of it now that Slade had sounded agitated. Likely at the mention of Sebastian Blood, which might have then had something to do with Slade not coming to the alderman’s rally.

For a moment, Oliver indulged the thought that Slade might have done something to Sebastian in his distress—hence him not wanting to show his face to Oliver tonight—, but although Oliver hadn’t really paid attention, he’s sure Sebastian had been alive and well at the unity rally.

Even if Slade was inadvertently disturbed by Oliver mentioning Sebastian to him—which Oliver could admit was reasonable seeing as the no doubt bad things it likely reminded the Alpha of—, was that really enough reason for Slade not to text Oliver back all day?

No, no it wasn’t, Oliver thought to himself.

Concern grew in Oliver as he thought more about why Slade shouldn’t have been dead silent in communicating to Oliver all day and should have been at the rally earlier.

Gathering his things—mainly the keys to his bike—Oliver decided he had to pay his Alpha a visit before he’d be able to sleep at night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of something different this chapter, but currently, the sex is slated for Chapter 14.
> 
> Just for my own personal interest as well, would anyone want to see me post my Omegaverse worldbuilding headcanons on my Tumblr or here? Or come talk to me about Omegaverse on my Tumblr? I changed my Tumblr url to faebane.


	12. Aftershocks II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to post this sooner but the chapter ended up being longed than I expected and I split _Aftershocks_ into a third part.
> 
> I also forgot to mention in the last chapter, but the meanings behind the flowers that Slade is sending Oliver are based off the meanings that the flowers traditionally have in the language of flowers.
> 
> An explanation for the flowers and Slade’s actions will be coming up shortly.

Spying on Slade’s building of a residence a couple times—when Oliver was still unsure as to whether things would end in blood between them—turned out to be handy when the Omega was able to remember how to navigate his way through the city to Slade’s place easily enough.

Turning off the road, Oliver drove his bike into what he presumed was the car park underneath Slade’s building.

Manoeuvring his way through the relative darkness of Slade’s place, Oliver tried to retrace his steps and remember where the Alpha had taken him the last time he was here.

Anxiety grew in Oliver as he arrived at the room where the highest concentration of Slade’s scent was and he noticed the door was open. It was pitch black in the apartment and Oliver lingered in the doorway.

If it wasn’t for Slade’s scent shrouding the room like a blanket of heady musk, Oliver might not even have thought the Alpha was here. Underneath Slade’s woody, amber-like scent, there was something else however. Something that Oliver had to inhale deeply for a moment to notice.

The smell was salty and metallic. Oliver’s mind instantly picked it as blood.

Oliver palms for the light switch on the wall.

Light illuminates the room and the Omega then spots the equipment that had been left haphazardly across the floor near the couch, darting over to it.

Holsters, sheaths, gloves, boots, and other black-and-orange armour-like apparel littered the carpet. Oliver instantly recognises it as what Slade had been wearing last night, the steely mask of the Alpha’s glaring back at Oliver menacingly from the floor.

Picking up the sheathed sword closest to him, Oliver drew the blade out slightly. Dried blood appeared to be crusted on the opening of the scabbard as well as flecks of it were coated up the blade’s length. Re-sheathing the sword, Oliver decides against drawing it out fully.

His mind was racing with thoughts.

_What did Slade do? This clearly happened last night or today._

Hands moving of their own accord, Oliver finds himself looking at the Alpha’s other discarded weaponry. Picking up the bandolier that hung over Slade’s shoulder, Oliver was confident upon a closer inspection that the canisters in it were explosives. One of them was gone though, because there were three pocket-like slots here and only two of were occupied.

He’s about to check how many rounds were in Slade’s guns, seriously worried as to his Alpha’s activity last night, when a noise comes from elsewhere in the apartment.

Oliver perks up from where he’d been crouching on the floor at the nearby groan. He’d been so transfixed on the Alpha’s discarded (and rather incriminating) weapons and armour that Oliver had temporarily forgotten that Slade was likely even here.

Getting to his feet unsteadily, Oliver wonders as to what kind of state Slade is in.

The door to the bedroom on the right is closed but Oliver could still hear Slade making incoherent noises through it. It didn’t even sound like Slade was speaking words—which Oliver had never heard the Alpha be quite so nonsensical before—which made Oliver think Slade was probably asleep.

Opening the door slightly, Oliver pokes his head into the darkness of the room.

“Slade…,” Oliver calls softly.

Only quiet muttering responds to Oliver.

Pushing the door open and allowing light to spill into the room from the hallway, Oliver notices Slade turned over on his stomach in bed with the sheets haphazardly kicked off to the left side of him. Which also happened to expose that Slade was shirtless and his right leg was bare, along with his ass that was only partially covered by blankets.

His Alpha had a nice, toned ass though...

Averting his gaze, Oliver realises he’d been staring at his Alpha’s ass and is more so thankful for the fact that Slade was sleeping on his stomach. If he’d walked in and Slade had been sleeping on his back however...

Shaking his mind free of thoughts of his Alpha’s dick (that dick he had fondled once), Oliver looked back at Slade (not his ass).

Oliver could feel a slight tugging on his heartstrings.

_He’s asleep._

The Omega hadn’t anticipated that Slade might be asleep when he arrived, so that left Oliver with two choices. One was that he could wake Slade up to ask the Alpha about his lack of communication today and the incriminating evidence lying out there on the living room floor. But experience had thus shown Oliver that merely touching Slade whilst he slept could cause him to react violently, which was evidenced by the fact that Oliver was still using Thea’s concealer to cover up an uncomfortable purple bruise on his left cheekbone.

Or two, Oliver could hope and wait for Slade to wake up on his own in due time.

Intentionally waking Slade was definitely out, so it looked like Oliver could be staying at Slade’s for a little while.

Shaking his head, Oliver walks into the bedroom and settles himself on the left side of Slade’s bed.

Slade doesn’t seem to rouse as Oliver lays down beside him. Oliver does flick the bed sheets back over Slade’s back and ass though.

Propping the pillows up against the headboard, Oliver gets his phone out of his pocket and waits for Slade to awaken.

xxxxxxxx

After about half an hour of Oliver mucking around on his phone, the Omega was becoming bored.

Slade had grown relatively silent beside Oliver which made the Omega think the Alpha had fallen into an easy sleep at least.

A smile graces Oliver’s face as he trails his gaze over Slade’s sleeping form.

The Alpha had his arms propped up under the pillows supporting his head and from what Oliver could see of Slade’s expression, he looked quite peaceful. Moving about slightly in his sleep, the Alpha had thrown the covers Oliver had chucked over him off his back but they were thankfully still over Slade’s ass and tangled up in his legs.

Reaching a hand out to re-pull the sheets up _at least over_ Slade’s lower back, Oliver notices there was a dark marking over the Alpha’s lumber. In fact, Oliver realises, there were two or three long patches of discoloured skin up and down Slade’s back.

They were dark red, black bruises.

_Slade’s hurt…? But how...what could have happened? What was Slade doing last night?_

Oliver knew logically that with the Mirakuru running through Slade’s veins, he shouldn’t injury as easily and should heal faster. The fact that Slade had reasonably sized bruising up and down his back thus concerned Oliver.

Something significant must have clearly happened to cause Slade injury, and Oliver’s assuming the mention of Sebastian Blood might have triggered Slade last night to set out doing… whatever he’d been doing but—

—All the pieces of the puzzle suddenly seem to fall into place in Oliver’s head. Any ill-will he might feel for Slade seems to vanish as Oliver keeps staring at his Alpha’s injury.

Without even thinking about it, Oliver trails his hand out over Slade’s shoulder.

The effect is instantaneous as Slade mumbles something and tenses under Oliver’s touch.

_Shit_ , Oliver mentally curses and his first thought is to recoil backwards.

It’s not enough though as Slade’s hand swiftly darts out and catches Oliver by the wrist.

A breath hitches in Oliver’s throat as he meets Slade’s gaze, the Alpha still lying down in bed.

Dark brown eyes stare back at Oliver, but not with malice or contempt like the Omega remembered Slade had once looked at him with, when the Alpha had thought Oliver was the same hallucination that plagued him.

_He’s fine… Yeah, he’s fine,_ Oliver’s mind briefly registers.

Yet Slade’s eyes were glazed over with dark rings beneath them and Oliver knew from just a few seconds of looking at the Alpha that he wasn’t with it.

“Hey,” Slade murmurs.

After a few seconds of looking at Oliver somewhat dumbfounded, Slade releases the Omega’s wrist and re-tucks his left arm back under the pillow supporting his head.

“Hey,” Oliver responds.

"What are you doing here, kid?" the Alpha asks with a quirked eyebrow.

Temporarily averting his gaze from Slade, Oliver lets out a low whistle of air.

"You weren't at the rally this evening and you hadn’t texted me back all day. I was... concerned."

Slade makes a random, incoherent mumble that sounds like agreement. The Alpha goes silent and Oliver watches Slade close his eyes for a few seconds then reopen them.

Blinking, Slade appears to take a moment to re-register Oliver’s presence.

"How long have you been here for?"

Oliver gives a slight shrug of his shoulders in response.

“About half an hour."

At Oliver’s reply, Slade seems to deflate further, the Alpha sinking back into the mattress and laying his head down on the pillow.

"’You gonna ask?"

Shaking his head, Oliver taps the side of Slade’s forearm.

“No, not yet. ‘Really not until you're ready to tell me,” Oliver affirms.

“For now though, are you okay? Do you need me to do anything?"

Briefly, Slade cocks his head to one side at the Omega’s words before collapsing his head back down into the pillow.

“No, 'tis good. You're alive…” Slade mutters, fluttering his eyelids closed.

Oliver goes to open his mouth to speak at Slade’s last words, but then closes it. He waits for the Alpha to reopen his eyes and say something to him again, but Slade doesn’t.

Merely observing the steady rise and fall of Slade’s chest, after several moments, Oliver comes to the conclusion that Slade had gone back out like a light.

Carefully, Oliver eases himself off Slade’s bed, tiptoeing out of the room and closing the door behind him.

Wandering back into the living area, Oliver re-spots Slade’s weapons and armour. There was kind of shit all over the place and Oliver finds himself gathering up the apparatus from the carpet then re-dumping it by the far kitchen wall.

Lingering in the room for a moment, Oliver wonders if he should text Slade that he’s been and gone from here, that way the Alpha didn’t get the wrong idea. Slade didn’t appear to have checked any of Oliver’s previous messages though.

Oliver begins to scrounge around in the drawers and cupboards of the kitchen looking for paper before he finds some in the wooden cabinets near the door, along with some biros.

Oliver began to write.

_Hey Slade,_

_It’s Oliver._

_I wasn't sure if you'd check your phone first thing when you woke up so I decided to leave you a note just telling you I’ve been and gone from here._

_Sorry I woke you up. You seemed pretty out of it. So I dunno if you remember what happened but I came over because you hadn’t responded to my messages and you weren’t at Sebastian Blood’s rally._

_Things turned alright though on my end._

_I also moved all your equipment on the floor to the far wall because you had shit lying everywhere._

_I’ll talk to you when you’re up next._

_—  Oliver_

Scrawling his name at the bottom of the note, the Omega’s pen lingered over the page. Almost like something was missing.

At the bottom of the page, Oliver decides to add:

_P.S. I got your flowers. They were nice._

Slinking back into Slade’s room, Oliver spies the Alpha still asleep in bed. Leaving the finished note on Slade’s bedside table, Oliver departs the older man’s apartment with a greater sense of peace of mind than he’d arrived with.

xxxxxxxx

When Oliver awakens the next morning and checks his phone, he notices a text from Slade already there.

**_Slade: I was seriously going to have to consider if you were here last night, but then I saw you'd left me a note. Thanks, kid._ **

**_Oliver: Don’t worry about it. I intend to be back over tonight, old man._ **

Oliver pockets his phone when the Alpha doesn’t immediately respond, preparing to head to Queen Consolidated.

The flowers Slade had sent him were still occupying the small table in the corner of Oliver’s office. Yet Oliver noticed Felicity appeared to have filled the bouquet’s container with water.

Sometime after Oliver’s settled into _looking_ like he knew what he was doing (and actually doing _some_ things with Felicity’s aid), the Omega’s phone vibrated in his pocket.

The Omega screws up his face when he reads Slade’s message.

**_Slade: I think we need to talk._ **

**_Oliver: I know, but I don't want you to feel like we have to talk just because of what happened yesterday. If you're not ready, we don’t need to talk right now._ **

**_Slade: Why are you so damn nice, kid?_ **

Rolling his eyes, Oliver wished the Alpha would have given him a serious reply rather than just taken a jab at him.

**_Oliver: Shut up. You're the one sending me flowers. By the way, what was that all about? Did it have anything to do with Sunday night?_ **

**_Slade: I sent them on Saturday so no, you were getting those flowers regardless. And I'll explain the flowers… later or so, 'cause you're not done with them yet._ **

With a raised eyebrow, Oliver momentarily gawked when he read Slade’s last texted sentence.

**_Oliver: Are you serious? Have you sent more? You know I'm just Googling the meanings of these flowers off the floral company's website, right? I don’t actually know what the flowers are meant to mean._ **

**_Slade: That's a cheat sheet, but it gives you the flowers meanings at least._ **

Grinning to himself, Oliver puts his phone down.

xxxxxxxx

As if on queue—shortly after Oliver’s pocketed his phone—Felicity darts downstairs bringing back with her another reminder for the Omega of Slade.

Felicity chuckled to herself as she dumped yet another bouquet of flowers on Oliver’s desk. Out of the corner of the Omega’s eye, he’s sure Dig was smirking, but his partners remained relatively silent as Oliver took in the new flowers.

They were a middling pink colour with each individual flower splitting into five directions. The flowers smelt almost like roses, but looking at the tag attached to the bouquet revealed they were azaleas.

Oliver searches up azaleas on the florist company’s website.

The website read:

_Pink azaleas exemplify softness and devotion from the sender. The recipient of azaleas may interpret the flowers to mean that the sender is asking them to take care of themselves and that the sender cares deeply for them._

Heat pooled in Oliver’s cheeks at the mere concept that Slade cared deeply for him. The two of them evidently liked and cared for each other beyond the issues they experienced but they didn’t really verbalise their feelings overly to one another.

Instantly, Oliver’s messaging Slade.

**_Oliver: You want to tell me what sending me these flowers is all about?_ **

**_Slade: A bit of a courtship, if you will._ **

The Omega almost recoiled backwards reading the Alpha’s reply.

_Courtship? What the fuck?_

He couldn’t believe it! Felicity was right, Slade was sending him flowers to court him!

For a second thoughts run wild in Oliver’s head but taking a deep breath, the Omega manages to settle himself.

Slade could have very well just been telling him shit like this to be a dickbag.

**_Oliver: Explain? You don't have to court me Slade, you've already got me._ **

When Oliver reads Slade’s return message though, he can’t help but think that his Alpha was being serious about all of this.

**_Slade: That was by no feat of my damn own though, that was you jumping me and finally deciding you wanted to get fucked._ **

Oliver screws up his face.

**_Oliver: It sounds a lot worse when you say it like that._ **

The Omega knew that he and Slade had quasi-Bonded over a quick fucking and knotting, which was by no means romantic. Said sex was also initiated by Oliver in an attempt to goad a Bonding from Slade so that he’d gain some leverage over the Alpha.

When Oliver thought about it like this, he could totally see why the Alpha might disagree with… how things had come to be between then.

**_Slade: Point is, I could have tried a lot harder to court your ass than I did. And now I'm going to do just that._ **

**_Oliver: Can you at least tell me why the flowers?_ **

**_Slade: Another time._ **

xxxxxxxx

Before Oliver heads out for the evening on patrol, Slade’s texting him again.

**_Slade: Can you bring over some endone or some shit? I'm kinda fucked._ **

_Endone,_ Oliver thinks to himself. _Why is Slade asking me for endone? I only take strong pain killers like that when I’ve dislocated, broken, or torn the shit out of something._

**_Oliver: Does this have something to do with the bruises on your back?_ **

**_Slade: Yes._ **

**_Slade: Am I back in the doghouse?_ **

Reading the Alpha’s next message, Oliver wonders as to what Slade means but then realises maybe Slade expected him to be angry with him.

**_Oliver: No, you’re not. I can bring over some things and give you an injection of morphine later on, so long as you tell me what it’s for. Because clearly it’s not for those bruises on your back and I wanna know how much morphine I’m giving you._ **

**_Slade: ‘Think I’ve slipped a disc or I’ve got a compression fracture. ‘Done something though that fuckin’ hurts._ **

The Omega grimaces to himself. Evidently the bruises on Slade’s back made more sense now, and finding out the Alpha had spinal injuries only made Oliver more certain as to the cause of said injuries.

**_Oliver: Are you going to be okay though?_ **

**_Slade: It should heal._ **

Oliver decides to leave his and his Alpha’s conversation at that, sending Slade one last message to tell him he was coming over later.

xxxxxxxx

Sometime around nine, Oliver arrives at Slade’s place after a relatively quiet night of Arrow activity and gathering some things to take to his Alpha’s place.

Stood outside Slade’s apartment, Oliver knocks on the door.

“You can come in, ‘cause I’m not getting up,” Slade’s voice emanates quietly through the door.

Letting himself into the room, Oliver was surprised to find Slade outstretched on the couch. The Alpha was lying stomach-down with his hands and feet hanging over either side of the couch. Slade had his head perked up at Oliver’s arrival.

Oliver also couldn’t help notice that Slade’s equipment was still lying where he’d left it last night.

_He really is hurt,_ Oliver thinks to himself as he wandered over to his Alpha.

“Hey,” Oliver greets.

“You gonna give me some of those painkillers?” Slade demands more than asks.

The Alpha looks at Oliver with squinted eyes and a hint of a glare.

Oliver drops the backpack he’d been carrying and decides to just cut straight to the chase.

Pulling a capped syringe out of the bag, Oliver shows Slade the needle but holds it back out of his reach.

“I'll give you the morphine first and then you should need nothing else for the night. I'm giving you a higher dosage than I'd normally give myself. I figured if you were coming to me looking for painkillers, you've got to be in significant pain,” Oliver says astutely.

A low rumble vibrates up Slade’s throat, but the Alpha says nothing intelligible, merely keeps staring at the Omega crouched before him.

Popping the safety cap on the syringe, Oliver gestures towards one of the Alpha’s outstretched arms.

“Can I jab this in your wrist without you attempting to hit me?

Slade growls but his furrowed eyebrows loosen as he turns an outstretched arm palm up to Oliver.

“Fine, go ahead.”

The Omega takes Slade’s offered wrist, which upon grabbing it, Oliver notices how hot the Alpha’s body is. More so than usual because Slade always ran a higher temperature than Oliver. No, it felt like Slade’s body had to be pushing 106 degrees. Yet Slade wasn’t sweating or panting despite his fever-like temperature, so Oliver pushed that concern to the back of his mind.

“Clench your fist,” Oliver mentions after beginning to apply pressure on Slade’s forearm.

He maybe should have made a makeshift tourniquet for the Alpha’s arm but when Slade tightens his hand into a fist, Oliver spots a vein in the older man's wrist.

Slade slides his gaze back up to meet Oliver’s and the Omega offers the Alpha a light smile.

It keeps Slade’s eyes locked on Oliver’s as the Omega pokes the morphine into the Alpha’s wrist. Pushing the plunger down on the syringe, Slade is silent as Oliver empties the injection’s contents into him.

As Oliver pulls the needle out of Slade, the Alpha releases a gruff exhale. A bit of blood trickles out from the place where the injection had went—Oliver silently wondering to himself how he couldn’t have thought to bring a light dressing to put over it—but Slade swiftly clasps his other hand around said wrist.

Replacing the cap on the syringe, Oliver drops the emptied syringe back into his bag.

“There. The morphine should start to work in ten-fifteen minutes, but you might also feel drowsy.”

Shaking his head, Slade huffs, pulling his arms back on the couch and propping them underneath his head.

“I’m already tired and cranky as fuck, just letting you know,” Slade states in a matter-of-factly tone.

Oliver flicks his head to one side and raises his brows at the Alpha.

“I gathered as much.”

At the Omega’s seeming disapproval, Slade cranes his neck upwards to meet Oliver’s gaze.

“My back’s fine when I’m lying down like this,” Slade states, in a quiet—almost defeated—tone.

“But I aggravated the shit out of it before trying to get up, have a shower, and get dressed. I didn’t get to the having a shower part, but I’m dressed as you can see. Damn back’s been giving me grief ever since.”

As Oliver is about to open his mouth and ask if the Alpha will let him look at his back, Slade glances downwards at the bag at Oliver's feet, beating the Omega to talking.

“What else is in the bag?”

Rummaging through his backpack, Oliver pulls out the first of its contents and drops a small medicine bottle onto Slade’s coffee table.

“This is the endone,” Oliver explains.

Immediately Slade’s right hand is seeking out the coffee table to which Oliver brushes the Alpha’s fingers away from it at.

Slade snarls, lightly baring his teeth at Oliver.

“You're only supposed to take one every six hours,” Oliver says somewhat sternly, “Seeing as you've just had the morphine, don't take any endone until like three in the morning.”

“Fine.”

Right arm flopping back against the couch, Slade appears to yield to his Omega’s wishes.

Oliver continues to empty the contents of his bag, dropping another two bottles onto the table.

Dark eyes remain eagerly glued to Oliver’s movements.

“I wouldn’t advise taking these until you’re off the endone but I figured I’d bring these over anyway…” Oliver starts.

“These are valium—”

Low growling from Slade ceases the Omega’s talking.

Slade was staring back at Oliver with a glare and bared teeth. Like he rejected the very notion that Oliver would try and medicate an issue Slade definitely _did not_ have.

Letting out a low sigh, Oliver walks between the coffee table and the sofa, flopping down onto the floor. Oliver stretches his legs out across the carpet as his back’s propped up against the couch.

The Omega finds himself clasping his hands in one another.

“Shut up. They’ll help you sleep. They do for me at least. One should be enough if you’re just anxious, but two helps me sleep when I’m stressed. I’ve got more than enough bottles anyway, so I figured I’d bring one over seeing as you’re not much better than me in the sleeping department.”

Quiet rumbling comes from behind Oliver yet it’s not what the Omega considered to be hostile from Slade.

A hand drapes over Oliver’s left shoulder. Said hand’s thumb caressed down the Omega’s stubbled cheek.

It was the back of Slade’s finger going up and down Oliver’s face but the Omega found the gesture soothing all the same.

“Why you got so many valiums, kid?” Slade asks softly.

Oliver lets out an exhale as Slade remains running his thumb over his cheek.

“When I got back from the island, my mom got me all these meds. I was withdrawn, volatile, and could barely function like a normal person in my own home—let alone in front of anyone else. My mom and Thea hated it because I wouldn't let anyone touch me, barely ate, and I wasn't sleeping either. I flat out refused to take any of these meds my mom was trying to force into me."

Slade makes a muffled sound of amusement, his thumb scratching underneath Oliver’s chin. The Omega allows it, leaning his head to one side.

“Why'd you start taking your meds though?" Slade asks, jovialness gone from his tone.

A frown crosses Oliver’s face as he recalls all those months ago.

“Aside from the fact that I was a menace in my own household and I couldn't stand seeing how it affected my family… I couldn't function to do anything productive the way I was. I didn't sleep enough and I was always on edge. Putting on the hood at night, I was sloppier and I made stupid mistakes where I shouldn't have. So yeah, that’s why I actually started taking these,” Oliver finishes holding up two medicine bottles to Slade.

Behind Oliver, Slade makes a grunt like he was moving about on the sofa. Then Slade’s fingers come away from the Omega’s face and brush over his closed palm holding the medications.

"What's the other one? Not the valium? I already know what that does,” Slade questions, pulling the other bottle from Oliver’s palm.

“Zoloft, it's—” Oliver starts but Slade cuts him off.

“—Antidepressant,” Slade finishes astutely for Oliver.

“Yeah…”

When Slade re-tucks the second medicine bottle back into Oliver’s palm, the Omega deposited the two of them back onto the table.

Part of him felt a bit uncomfortable baring himself to the Alpha like this, but Oliver squashed down that awkwardness inside of him. It wasn’t like he and his Alpha were all that different after all.

“I take them...” Oliver says as if those mere words were a condemnation.

“The valiums help me sleep and take the edge off me when I’m antsy. The zoloft’s just a day-to-day thing that picks up my mood, helps me function better than I did without it.”

Oliver scratches the back of his neck, unsure as to Slade’s emotions when he couldn’t see the Alpha’s face.

Fingers tangle into Oliver’s own near the back of the Omega’s head and Slade’s hand tightens over Oliver’s own.

With their hands now fully clasped in one another, the Omega could feel how clammy Slade’s hands were. Then again, his own hands probably weren’t all that pleasant to hold either.

A low grumble leaves Slade as the Alpha adjusts his hand in Oliver’s own.

Slade then flops down between the couch and coffee table, beside the Omega, lowering their intertwined hands by Oliver’s side.

The Alpha groans as he collapses down onto the floor but he gives Oliver a sideways grin.

“I’ll take them.”

Oliver stares at the Alpha with furrowed brows.

“Should you really be sitting up right now?” Oliver asks sternly, but with a hint of concern.

Alpha kinking his neck to one side, Slade appears to roll his left shoulder, right arm remaining bound to Oliver’s.

“I’m alright,” Slade affirms.

“‘Mirakuru makes drugs go straight through me. My body doesn’t like me putting shit in it; makes it hard to get drunk as I stay real sober for ages. Hopefully the endone will at least work on me quickly then as my body seems to be absorbing the morphine quickly.”

Slade had never injured his back as badly as this before but the morphine seemed to be dulling his pain rather effectively. The Mirakuru within him would attempt to absorb and be rid of any foreign substances like painkillers in him rapidly, which in his situation, was going to be a pain in the arse. Only Oliver’s evident disapproval was going to keep Slade from wanting to shove multiple endone pills at once into himself.

Oliver nods as Slade settled on the floor beside him seems content.

“Alright, you’re not taking any endone for the next six hours though,” Oliver affirms.

“I also assumed you might not have eaten all day when you texted me, so I brought food,” Oliver says after Slade doesn’t protest to his former words.

Slade passes Oliver his backpack as if on queue and the Omega pulls out two packets from within it.

“By food, you mean instant noodles,” Slade states after a single look at the cup-like packets Oliver brought out.

Getting to his feet and pulling his hand from Slade’s, Oliver swats one of the packets over Slade’s head lightly.

“We’ve already established I can’t cook, so shut it,” Oliver reprimands.

With what limited culinary experience and knowledge Oliver had, the Omega prepared the instant noodle soups for himself and his Alpha. When Oliver had heated up the noodles, he brought back the food to the coffee table where he and Slade began to eat and just make small talk sat on the floor.

xxxxxxxx

On Wednesday morning, more flowers arrived at Queen Consolidated for Oliver.

This time they were small flowers with dabs of yellow in the middle and a blue outside. Upon inspection, Oliver found the card attached to the bouquet read _Blue Violets._

Googling the flower, Oliver found the following regarding the flowers meaning:

_Blue violets_ _indicate the sender’s devotion and faithfulness to the recipient. Sending blue violets is also a way to express to another that you’ll always be true and are committed to making your relationship work._

Oliver was beginning to think over time the underlying messages of the flowers Slade was sending him were becoming less cryptic. It was really starting to seem like… just a declaration of Slade’s feelings to him rather than anything more or less.

The Omega was starting to run out of places to have all these flowers in his office so this afternoon he’d probably take some of them to Verdant.

Before Oliver can overly contemplate Slade’s flowers, said Alpha on his mind texts him.

**_Slade: Can we talk?_ **

It didn’t take a genius to realise what Slade meant when he asked Oliver if they could ‘talk’.

Typing back to the Alpha, Oliver thinks Slade might be truly serious this time about them conversing.

**_Oliver: Tonight?_ **

**_Slade: Yes._ **

Oliver sighs, putting his phone away as he’d surely have a lot on his mind tonight.

It was time he and his Alpha had _that_ chat.

xxxxxxxx

Stood upon a vacant building, Oliver’s eyes are just surveying the city when his ears prick up at the sound of clanging and grunting nearby him.

The Omega’s first instinct is to nock an arrow in his bow but the night air carried with it the familiar scent of musky, unbridled Alpha.

It was almost pitch black outside, but Oliver could still recognise Slade’s black-and-orange mask as it peeked over the side of the building and the Alpha pulled himself up onto the rooftop.

He’d told Slade they’d talk once Oliver had retired from patrol for the night so the Omega was thus confused to see the Alpha here now.

“Slade!” Oliver half-hisses as he drops his bow and darts over to his Alpha.

With a groan, Slade drops to his knees after scuffling onto the rooftop.

“What are you doing here? You shouldn't even be standing!” Oliver barks.

The Omega was baffled by the fact that Slade had just scaled the side of a relatively tall building to come see him.

Despite his irritation, Oliver lingers crouched down by his Alpha’s side who was nearly on all fours.

It was strange to see Slade so beaten and battered like this, more so when Oliver looked at the Alpha clad in his padded armour and multiple weapons.

Slade’s head tilts to one side until the Alpha is staring right back at Oliver.

“Shut up,” Slade protests, “I had to come see you. 'Need to talk to you.”

At the strained tone of Slade’s voice, Oliver blinked, slightly taken aback by the sheer urgency in Slade’s voice.

_This is really bothering him,_ Oliver lamented to himself.

Oliver’s hands seek out Slade’s back and the front of his shoulder.

“I can walk,” Slade croaks, flicking his head over to meet Oliver’s gaze.

The Omega didn’t doubt Slade’s willingness to try and walk.

As Slade goes to push himself off the ground and back into a kneeling position, Oliver takes the Alpha’s right arm and slides himself beneath it. Slade’s right arm hung over the Omega’s shoulders and Oliver clasped the Alpha’s hand with his own before winding his free arm around Slade’s back.

Slowly and steadily, the Omega pushes himself to his feet as Slade also seemed to do so with Oliver’s support.

“Let’s go,” Oliver says after pulling himself and Slade to their feet.

Oliver began to walk towards the top of the emergency exit stairwell that marked the only three walls and a door on top of the building.

Pressure weighed on Oliver’s shoulders as he walked half-hunched over to match the fact that Slade didn’t appear to be able to stand fully. Oliver was able to pull back a bow with a draw weight of 150 pounds though and bench heavier weights still, so shouldering Slade while the man was still able to somewhat carry himself was easy enough.

“When did you get so strong, kid?” Slade huffs as he is chaperoned along by the younger man.

“Shut up. You’re forgetting who hauled your ass back to the freighter after Fyers shot you.”

As Oliver finishes shouldering Slade to the wall, the Alpha collapses down against it. Oliver releases his knees from supporting himself as well and allows himself to be dragged to the floor along with his Alpha.

“That was your fault. Running off as usual,” Slade lightly chides.

Pulling his right arm from over Oliver’s shoulders, Slade straightens himself up against the wall by bracing his hands on the ground. His and the Omega’s legs were still haphazardly lying about before them as they remained shoulder-to-shoulder.

With a huff, Slade turns to his Omega.

Oliver had a blank look on his face and his blue eyes were unusually hard to read due to the mask Slade thinks the Omega had only starting wearing recently.

Slade draws the back of his right hand over Oliver’s cheekbone to which the Omega remains silent at.

“What's with the mask? ‘Get tired of putting your makeup on everyday,” Slade chuckles.

The Omega’s face contorts into a scowl as he growls lightly and Slade pulls his hand from Oliver’s face voluntarily.

“No, for your information, it was a gift from a friend,” Oliver says, voice laced with more hostility than likely intended due to his vocal changer.

Slipping a hand into his hood, Oliver disables his voice changer.

“I’m… can we—” Slade attempts to start.

Oliver cuts the Alpha off though by dropping his hand down upon Slade’s. Sliding his hand into Slade’s own that was covered in thick padding, Oliver gives Slade’s palm a reassuring squeeze.

“Would it make things easier for you if I just told you what I know? Or rather suspect, seeing as I think I have a fairly good idea of what happened Sunday night,” Oliver asks attentively.

The Alpha swallows around an uncomfortable lump in his throat. This evening, he’d been too anxious to wait for Oliver to arrive at his apartment. He’d been in pain—still was—and even though Slade was able to hobble around in his apartment, the pain in his back was chronic.

The Mirakuru was likely mending whatever damage had been done to his vertebrates but at the same time had to realign and force those bones back where they’d originally came from.

How many times had Slade rehearsed having this all too important conversation with Oliver though? And yet, Slade had no idea where to start. So Slade eagerly agrees to the idea of the Omega just explaining what he knew.

“ _Yes…_ ” Slade lets out quietly after a moment.

Oliver gives Slade’s hand another squeeze, which the Alpha seems to feel despite the no doubt layers of clothing covering him as Slade holds back tightly onto the Omega’s hand.

It was mildly uncomfortable for Oliver, as he wasn’t able to move his fingers much that were caught tightly in Slade’s own, but the Omega leaves his hand there in Slade’s.

The Alpha had grown quiet now.

Letting out an exhale, Oliver opens his mouth to talk.

“First off, I just want you to know I'm not mad. Or anything for that matter. If anything, I've just been concerned the past couple days. I know... or rather, I think you didn't like me going to speak with Sebastian Blood and that set you off.”

_Oliver is damn right about that,_ Slade thinks to himself with gritted teeth.

Slade merely lets out a low rumble though.

“It's alright…” the Omega adds softly.

If it wasn’t for the fact that Slade’s hand clasped around his own limited Oliver’s ability to use said hand, he would have attempted to rub his palm back over the Alpha’s.

“I understand you're likely not proud of your involvement together.”

Guilt stabs Slade through the chest like a knife.

He couldn’t believe it, Oliver knew. He knew! Oliver knew about Sebastian just as Slade had suspected in his paranoia.

Slade growls even louder, not able to think of anything intelligent to say, clenching his hand around Oliver's. Almost like he was begging Oliver not to go.

_Please don’t hate me, please don’t hate me_. The Alpha remained silent for a moment however, awaiting Oliver to dish out whatever verbal punishment he would.

Oliver actually does wince this time at Slade’s manhandling, but he thinks the small sound is drowned out underneath Slade’s rumbling.

“How'd you find out? What'd he say?”

Despite that Oliver's hand was still in Slade's own vice grip-like own, Oliver tries to remain calm and collected. He could still clearly remember how the revelation dawned upon his mind and how he connected all the dots together of Slade and Sebastian's relationship.

"Look, I'm not bothered," Oliver starts with.

“I paid Sebastian a visit to try and talk him down from running a suicidal rally in City Plaza. Admittedly, things turned alright then. When I went to leave Sebastian's office though, he mentioned you."

Oliver pauses for a moment, expecting Slade to surely interrupt him. Yet Slade only remains staring, fixated on him with deep, dark eyes.

The Omega has to think to himself for a moment about how he’s going to explain things to Slade without openly telling the Alpha how things really occurred. Or rather, that Sebastian thought the Arrow was Slade’s pet bitch.

“Sebastian wanted to know why you were letting the Arrow roam around free,” Oliver lets out with a slight exhale.

Slade's whole body goes rigid at Oliver's words. If it weren't for his hand still wrapped in Oliver's, he thinks he would have bolted from the Omega at this very second and attempted to find wherever Sebastian was hiding himself out at this very moment.

Slade's aching back probably would have also prevented that though.

The Alpha couldn't contain his anger, spite, but most of all disappointment with himself that he'd put his Omega in a position like this. Oliver, who he was seemingly only a hassle to, but cared for deeply.

Slade can barely think of anything intelligent to say at the Omega's pause.

_"And..."_ Slade ends up muttering.

Oliver shakes his head slightly.

“I... I wasn't certain as to what exactly Sebastian was referring to at the time. I only knew that you too clearly had a relationship, but I didn't want to bother you about it over the phone on Sunday.”

Slade sighs, free hand coming up to drag over his mask.

“So you did know something?” Slade huffs.

Since their phone call Sunday evening, Slade had expected the Omega knew _something_ , and he’d gotten all worked up about it. And yet, it turned out, the Omega did know of his and damn Blood’s relationship but Oliver just didn’t let on to it at the time.

Slade slumped forward slightly from where he’d been leaning against the wall.

The Alpha is silently grateful for the cold, indifferent mask covering his face from Oliver. Right now Slade’s face was screwed up with anxiety and contempt for himself.

Despite Slade wanting to tell Oliver the full extent of what had been happening since he’d gotten here in Starling City, the Alpha may have been too late now. Even after all this time—all the weeks he’d spent garnering Oliver’s trust and goodwill—Slade couldn’t prevent Oliver from finding out the truth on his own.

Pain pangs at Slade’s heart like a thousand needles were being poked into the organ.

Everything Slade had done—and everything he was—it would all be for naught now if he lost Oliver.

Yet Oliver’s hand merely remains intertwined in his own.

"Did you suspect I did when we talked?” Oliver asks, flatly.

"Yes..." Slade growls lowly.

"Though I wasn't sure if that was just my paranoia but I was almost certain that there was something in your voice at the time that made me think you _knew_."

Oliver shook his head.

"It's alright. I wasn't really sure what to think at the time, but imagined you would explain your involvement with Sebastian when we 'talked'. When I came to see you Monday night—after you hadn't texted me back all day—and I saw those bruises on your back... everything made sense though."

Slade’s body goes rigid at the Omega’s words.

“Tell me…”

The Omega sighs, thinking back to his first re-encounter with Slade in Starling City. He hoped he wouldn’t be bringing up unpleasant memories for Slade as he knew neither of them were particularly proud of those original actions between them. Remembering that second first meeting between them though is what helped Oliver connect up all the dots up as to Slade and Sebastian’s relationship.

"Do you remember when you pulled me off the streets and I was going into heat? Before I managed to give Cyrus Gold the slip, he made a phone call to whom I'm assuming was Sebastian. That's the only way I could think that Sebastian would have known about the Arrow’s dynamic and our relationship."

Although Oliver doesn’t mention it to Slade, he also remembers distinctly thinking Slade couldn’t have been the one Cyrus Gold had made a phone call to as Slade had half-admitted it to him. Slade had almost been… protective of him after the Alpha had pulled him off the streets.

Oliver remembered Slade’s words also when the Alpha cornered him at Verdant and he’d accused Slade of not having killed anyone this week in an attempt to get Oliver to talk to him.

_“That ain’t got nothing to do with me, kid. You have no idea how many people I am currently keeping in line.”_

By people, Oliver was willing to bet Slade was referring to Sebastian Blood and Cyrus Gold.

When Slade remains silent at Oliver’s statement, the Omega thinks he must be right on the money.

"As for last Sunday night…” Oliver continues.

“I'm assuming the mention of Sebastian set you off. Like you just said, you thought I knew something. You were silent all of Monday, and if I hadn't seen Sebastian alive at the rally, I'd be assuming now that you'd... disposed of him. But... when I saw those bruises on your back, I knew that something more serious must have happened to injury you like that. Which lead me to believe you must have went after Cyrus Gold rather than Sebastian, as someone else with the Mirakuru in them would have more likely inflicted those injuries on you."

Letting out a sigh, Slade realises truly how much Oliver knew. The Omega knew more than Slade gave him credit for and the Alpha saw no point in trying to hide his other secrets at this point.

Slade rubs his free hand up over a still sore shoulder.

“Well, actually,” Slade begins somewhat hesitantly, “Put my back out falling down a few stories and hitting the pavement, but Gold did end up putting me there.”

Oliver grits his teeth together anxiously, which hopefully Slade didn’t see with how dark it was around them. He wasn’t stupid, he knew how Slade’s tale ended but he wanted to know the intrinsic details anyway.

“What happened?” Oliver asks calmly.

The Omega squeezes Slade’s hand in his own the best he can around thick padding.

Around them the city is silent, and said silence is only broken when Slade lets out a heavy exhale.

“Well, I…” Slade starts.

It was difficult for the Alpha to piece together and recall his memories, but he knew what he’d done. He was very much aware that he’d given into his own madness, had known so too at the time. But his insanity had promised him vengeance and it freed him from pain for a short time. It had been all too easy for Slade to give in to, and that meant that the Alpha was here right now having this unfortunate conversation with Oliver.

xxxxxxxx

_Slade only bothers to put clothes on before rampaging downstairs. His fist goes through a wall a couple times—insignificant damage compared to what Slade usually did when he worked himself up into a frenzy like this._

_By time Slade makes it downstairs—into the hidden basement that held the Alpha’s many skeletons in the closet—he’s practically shaking. Radiating anxiety, fear, disgust, and above all hatred for Sebastian Blood who may have just driven a wedge between him and his Omega._

_A thick haze of rage had settled over Slade’s mind and he couldn’t quite_ think _, but he knew what he had to do._

_This basement, his own personal armoury, marked the reason that Slade brought this spacious building in the first place._

_Katanas, guns, backup weapons, and ammunition littered most of every surface and wall in the room._

_From where it sat on its mannequin, Slade’s black-and-orange suit of plated armour called to him—coaxing him._

TONIGHT WE KILL. WE DO IT FOR OURSELVES. DO IT FOR _HIM_.

_Within mere minutes, Slade’s got it on though leaves his mask on the table, Kevlar sliding over his skin, engulfing him. Slade welcomed its feeling of control and power washing over him, a sense of security lulling over him, even if the Alpha knew it was false._

_He couldn’t be content until Blood was dead._

_Immediately, Slade withdraws one of the katanas on his back._

_The Alpha’s right hand shakes around the blade as he glares at it._

_An inkling of dread creeps to the forefront of Slade’s mind as a sensation like ice pierces through his temples, almost like he was being watched._

_Hesitantly, Slade turns around only to be greeted with darkness._

_Slade knows killing Sebastian was effectively silencing the Beta for good, but... he couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that hung over him. Along with the words that had echoed in his mind earlier._

He’ll never approve of this, you know?

_It reminded Slade too much of a warped version of Oliver, his mind playing tricks on him._

_Gnawing at his bottom lip, some of the haze fogging up Slade’s mind seems to ebb as he’s able to_ think _._

_What if killing Blood did make things worse between him and Oliver? The Omega would likely condemn him murdering Blood if Oliver found out. Which Slade not only couldn’t allow but couldn’t bear to have happen._

_He feared Oliver’s disapproval—of his Omega looking at him with contempt and disappointment—more than he thinks he did whatever threat Sebastian may have been posing to their relationship._

No _, Slade manages to convince himself, shaking his head. ‘Best he not voluntarily drive wedges between himself and Oliver._

But… _Slade tightens his fist around his katana. Even if he so chooses to spare Blood’s life so as to spare himself from Oliver’s wrath, Slade still had to take his due pound of flesh. Sebastian was still threatening his Omega—NO, NO—Slade shakes his head._

_Blood may have felt threatened by the Arrow, and the fact that if he knew Slade wasn’t keeping the Vigilante in check like he implied he was… But it was Sebastian’s fucking obedient dog Cyrus Gold—that had nearly put Oliver through the wringer twice—that was the problem._

_Anxiety constricts through Slade’s chest and he could feel his blood rushing through his ears._

_Sebastian could send Cyrus after the Arrow to eliminate him at any time. Which could be tomorrow night, or the one after that._

_And although Oliver was strong (his strong, beautiful Omega), evidence had shown in the past that Oliver was ill-equipped to combat someone who had the Mirakuru within them like Cyrus… Like himself._

_Slade had made his bed, now he had to lie in it._

_Fist tightening around his sword, Slade manages to cease the tremors racking his body, mind drawing close to the conclusion at hand._

_There was no chance Slade would let the day come where his own inaction inadvertently caused Oliver harm. He would not let that day come where he had to live without Oliver. And if that meant violating his Omega’s trust once more to ensure that day didn’t come, so be it._

_Sheathing his sword, Slade pulled on his steely mask before venturing out into the darkness._

_Slade had made this problem, now he had to eliminate it._

_And so he gives into that desire to do so. It’s easy._

xxxxxxxx

_He’s sat atop a rooftop across from the building, a motel, he thinks that housed his prey. He liked—longed even—to hunt his own prey like this, rather than someone else’s._

_Animosity rolled off of him in waves as his dark eyes slid over the motel._

_Something in the back of his mind was keeping Slade from pouncing off the rooftop and bursting into the area though._ Someone… _Someone wouldn’t approve of this._

WHO WAS HE? WHO WAS HE?

_They were important._

THIS ONE THOUGH, _the one Slade was hunting; the current task at hand, it was more important though. More important because this one had tried to hurt his someone. And for that, this one had to die._

_Within seconds, Slade has maneuvered his way down onto the concrete and is stalking towards the motel._

_Creeping past several closed doors, upstairs and onto a balcony, Slade was sure he was growing closer to his target as the room numbers started to show late twenties._

Room 34…

_As Slade continued to stalk along the balcony, he pulled a pistol out of his right holster. A TiSAS Zigana Sport._

_He lazily trailed it over the door of room 31 as he walked._

_There were 15 rounds in this magazine, which Slade should hardly need. It was almost overkill, but the Alpha hoped every one of these fucking bullets hurt. Even if he just used one._

_Although he wanted to use all of them, maybe even waste the spare magazines he had on him._

Screw it!

_As the barrel of Slade’s gun brushed over a door marked 34, the Alpha took a step back and levelled the sidearm with his line of sight._

_He opens fire into the door._

_White noise explodes around Slade, not just from the bullets bursting through the door in front of him. There were other sounds, banging, screaming—multiple screams, he thinks—but it’s all just white noise and is inconsequential to Slade’s rage._

_A low clicking noise after multiple bangs alerts the Alpha to the fact that he’s dry firing his pistol. Fifteen bullets had already gone through the door in front of him._

_With a growl, Slade discards the emptied magazine from his gun over the balcony and inserts a new one into it._

_Out of the corner of Slade’s eye, he’s faintly aware of people running and making noise around him though they do not engage him._

Good.

_Thrusting his right leg out in front of him, Slade slams his foot into the door. It gives way beneath his boot and the Alpha forces it down with a loud crash._

_A snarl leaves Slade as a darkened corridor greeted him but the scent of blood did not. The smell of Alpha hung in the apartment but it was faint._

This fucker better be here, _Slade mentally cusses to himself._

_Stepping over the dilapidated door, Slade enters the room and immediately notices most of his bullets lying near the far wall._

_Slade creeps into the apartment with his gun still thrust out in front of him._

_Rage clouds Slade’s every thought, preventing him from thinking or feeling anything in the way of rational. He wanted to butcher this man for what he’d done._

_What he’d done… What he’d done to whom?_

_Their name escaped Slade but they were his—_

_—Out of the corner of Slade’s eye he sees it, that Alpha—HIS PREY—, and he catches their scent. But he’s too late._

_Something—that bastard—slams into the side of Slade with a force he’s not used to. It actually fucking hurts. His ribcage protests at pain arching up the side of it and all air is forced out of his lungs._

_The Alpha instinctively squeezes the trigger on his gun as noise explodes beside him. Slade’s still falling though as his back slams into the floor and a weight crashes down upon him._

_Slade’s free hand forms a fist and punches out in front of him as his eyes adjust to the darkness once more. The other Alpha lying on top of him avoids Slade’s fist as the other’s own slams into his collarbone._

_Pain explodes in Slade’s chest as a guttural, primal roar leaves him and he re-thrusts his gun into the other’s face._

_His prey scrambles on top of him, hand clasping around Slade’s wrist as the Alpha’s other hand slams the pistol out of his hand._

_Attempting to wrestle his hands away from the other Alpha’s, Slade bucks himself upwards. His steely, masked forehead slams into the other Alpha’s face._

_Hurt blossoms in Slade’s head yet the other’s weight is swiftly darting up off of him._

_Adrenaline pumps through Slade’s legs as he forces himself upwards even as his vision swims._

_His right hand goes for one of his katanas. It slides swiftly from its sheath as a black blur smacks into Slade and forces him against a wall._

_Sword in his hand, Slade stabs in inward towards himself and his attacker._

_The other Alpha pulls backwards slightly as Slade’s blade slides in between them cutting through his prey’s shirt._

_When a grunt escapes the other Alpha before Slade and the man retreats, Slade smells the blood. His katana had slid through skin as it slid through fabric._

_Slade snarled, thrusting his blade forward in a sideways arc._

_The other Alpha pulls himself clear of Slade’s sword easily enough though his hand lingers over the wound on his stomach._

_Beneath his mask, Slade smirks. He’d injured his prey more than he’d initially thought he had._

_Before Slade can feel too pleased with himself, the other Alpha bolts from the room._

_Multiple parts of Slade’s body were becoming unhappy with his attempts to move but he pursued the other Alpha anyway, quickly grabbing his discarded gun from the floor._

_Slade’s blood rushing through his ears was the only thing he could hear as his legs carried him across the balcony and after the other._

_The Alpha rounded a corner, and so too did Slade._

_He had to finish this bastard!_

_Within seconds, Slade’s ascending a set of emergency exit stairs, his katana still clasped firmly in his right hand._

_Swiftly reaching the rooftop of the motel complex, Slade finds his prey waiting for him there._

_The other Alpha lingers near the far side of the building._

_Slade growls, not having anything intelligent to say._

_Instinctively, Slade’s legs are carrying him forwards as his blade arcs forward, seemingly of its own accord to pierce flesh._

_His prey sidesteps out of his range but Slade’s blade follows him as he thrust the pointed steel about frantically._

_After dodging Slade’s sword several times, the other Alpha suddenly stops allowing Slade to run smack dab into him._

_Slade swings his blade upwards, hoping to cleave the man’s head from his shoulders._

_He doesn’t though as Slade’s prey is suddenly up inside his guard. Slade’s katana is pointed upwards towards the sky and the other Alpha has already slipped past it._

How did he, _Slade manages to think amidst his fury. How could Slade have been so—_

_His mind doesn’t get a chance to finish that thought however as the other slams into Slade causing him to fall backwards._

_One of Slade’s feet seeks out the ground behind him, but it’s partially not there and his boot slips off of it. None of Slade’s limbs were on solid ground and he felt the rest of his body follow his left leg as it descended downwards._

_It’s quick, Slade knows he’s falling off the rooftop from several metres high, but before he can flail too much, it’s over._

_Pure fury surges through Slade’s body at the same time as the pain does. He’s sure he hears a crack or a snap and the fire spreading through his lower back makes Slade think his ears heard true._

_Something has fractured or broken in his back, that has to be the source of this hurt ravaging his body._

_His katana falls from his hand as the Alpha attempts to push himself upwards into a sitting position._

_Slade snarls._

_He was careless but how dare this prick do this to him! He should have finished this bullshit the moment it started._

_It was dark in the alleyway beside the motel, but Slade thinks he can see the bastard peering down from the rooftop at him._

_He had to finish this now!_

_Forcing himself to his feet, pain spikes in Slade’s back as his spine threatens to fold in on itself putting him back on his ass._

_Grabbing a canister out of the bandolier wrapped around his chest, Slade pushes himself up to his full height and pulls the safety lever off the bomb._

_Somehow Slade manages to hurl the grenade upwards towards the motel rooftop before his back collapsed on him._

_Slade doesn’t see the explosion as his masked face re-falls onto the concrete, but he hears it._

_It’s that sound like lighting striking the earth and it roars in Slade’s ears as the smell of smoke drifted down to him._

_Something was probably burning now; Slade hadn’t expected the grenade to detonate so violently but all the better for him. That bastard up on the rooftop had better be severely injured or dead now._

_The explosion had likely been point blank, and not even Slade had been caught in a powerful, detonation so close to it like that._

I gotta go… I better check _, Slade thinks to himself amidst a pounding headache._

_Struggling to his feet and mostly supporting himself against the wall, Slade re-sheathed his katana._

_The Alpha then hobbled back up to the rooftop of the motel._

_He could hear more yelling and screaming around him, though everything seemed distant and far away from Slade’s mind._

_He was exhausted yet full of volatile rage, almost like that very fire burning within him was burning him out._

_When the Alpha finally managed to crawl back up onto the top of the motel, he saw a small fire and smoke billowing up off an object._

_The other Alpha had likely tried to run when Slade hurled the grenade up onto the rooftop as the man was face down towards Slade. Red flames illuminated the darkness though Slade wasn’t sure if the blackness on the man’s body was his still mostly intact clothes or his charred skin. The charcoal-like smell of burning flesh wafted through the air, giving Slade the answer even as his vision was swimming._

_Slade lingered near the stairs as his spine protested against any movements, knowing that the other Alpha had to be dead from the way he was silent and not moving._

_He didn’t even remember this bastard’s name, but now that he was dead Slade’s… Slade’s Omega was safe._

_Sirens in the distance alerted Slade to the fact that he had better go as the Alpha then slipped back into the darkness as fast as his aching body would allow him to._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter, back to present day.


	13. Aftershocks III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a few author notes at the end. Feel free to read them if you're interested.

Firm pressure around Slade’s hand breaks the Alpha away from his thoughts as he re-turns to look at Oliver. Oliver beside him who was alive and well.

“Hey,” Oliver says lightly, squeezing Slade’s gloved hand.

With a growl, Slade averts his gaze from Oliver and shakes his head.

He’d been remembering what had happened on Sunday night and the thought of it had rekindled rage in Slade.

The Alpha forced his gaze back to meet Oliver’s.

“Regarding last Sunday night…” Slade starts, gruffly.

"Well, you... you're pretty much right about everything, kid. I flipped when you mentioned Blood, and… I did think I was going to kill him. But then I remembered the fact that Blood had Cyrus Gold at his beck and call which was far worse than whatever Blood could do on his own. That… distracted me from going after Blood and I went after Gold instead.”

Oliver nods slightly.

He couldn’t see his Alpha’s face, but the gruff harshness in the older man’s voice made the Omega think that this was hard for Slade to admit.

“As for my injuries, well I...” Slade continued to explain.

“I fought badly and nearly got my ass handed to me. I was stupid, too volatile. I didn’t think. I chased Gold up onto the rooftop of the motel. Me, being the fuck-knuckle I was though ended up near the edge of the rooftop. Gold saw his opportunity and took it, throwing me off the building. He’s dead though… I had to finish it.”

Beneath his mask, Slade gritted his teeth. He was still annoyed with himself regarding the way he fought Cyrus Gold.

He’d been far too enraged. Slade hadn’t been thinking, and he’d fought without any ration or reason.

Logically, he should have been able to end that fight easier and without sustaining as many injuries.

The thought of Oliver getting hurt—or worse, killed—though had quickly eroded away whatever logic Slade had on Sunday night.

Slade just looks at his Omega for a moment as Oliver equally stared back at him attentively.

_Oliver’s alive, that’s the main thing that matters…_

Oliver is silent while he processes Slade’s words.

If Slade killed Cyrus Gold, that explains what the Omega found on his Alpha’s living room floor the night after Slade would have done the deed. The blood on Slade’s katana and the Alpha’s missing canister—likely a grenade—from his bandolier all made sense now.

The Omega nods.

“I understand.”

“Though I’m not about to start approving of the fact that you’re up and walking around with a back injury,” Oliver follows up with, brows furrowed.

Slade tsks, eyes glaring at Oliver.

“Shut it, kid. I’m pretty sure it’s mended a bit since Sunday anyway,” the Alpha argues.

Tilting his head to one side, Oliver lets out a low whistle of air whist his lips quirked upwards into the beginning of a smile.

_Fine, you win Slade._

A moment of silence passes between them as they both remained looking at one another. Said quiet is eventually broken by Slade attempting to sit himself up more, which lead to the Alpha hissing loudly.

“There’s something—” Slade starts, his voice still a half-pained hiss.

“—Well, while we're on the subject… there's just one more thing I want to tell you. And then that'll be... pretty much the last weight off my chest of things I feel I need to tell you.”

“Tell me,” Oliver states firmly.

For a moment, Slade is silent as a pregnant pause fills the air. Before it all just ends up gushing out of Slade anyway.

"Isabel Rochev... she's in on everything like Blood is. She knows who you are, though she doesn’t know about your dynamic. I gave her samples of my blood, and she’s been having the Mirakuru manufactured in Queen Consolidated’s Applied Sciences Division. She’s dangerous, kid—more so than Blood.”

Oliver’s eyes flick away from Slade, as his lips form a thin line.

The Omega lets out an exhale.

“And what about the rest of the Mirakuru?”

A pang of guilt stabs Slade through the chest at his Omega’s dull tone. His only hope for redemption and forgiveness from Oliver was to continue to tell the younger man the truth.

Slade shakes his head.

“As of right now… the Mirakuru should all still be at Queen Consolidated,” Slade explains.

“Rochev doesn't have anything to do with the Mirakuru, beyond the fact that she's been having it manufactured right under your nose. Blood's the one with less qualms about injecting people in the Glades. But I... was wary after that little chat we had in Verdant. I cracked the shits in front of Blood... didn't want him leaving any more bodies around for you to find. Or worse, successfully injecting people with the Mirakuru. And to my knowledge, things have stayed that way. Rochev and Blood have laid low over the past weeks.”

Oliver shut his eyes for a moment, seemingly processing this information, before settling his gaze on the night sky.

“So you put Isabel at Queen Consolidated?”

There’s a slight hitch to Oliver’s voice and that concerns Slade as he contemplates his response.

“She was there to lure you back out from hiding, but she would have made her own way there eventually,” Slade utters, which was the complete truth in his eyes.

The Alpha squeezes Oliver’s hand and rubs his other palm up the Omega’s arm. Trying and seemingly failing to garner a desired response from Oliver.

“Should I ask why Isabel would have eventually been vying for my father’s company anyway?”

Slade makes a low grumbling sound, not liking how Oliver was still avoiding his gaze.

“I know why, but I honestly wish I didn’t. Now, with everything I know, I don’t really want to keep things from you. But I also know there’s certain things you _shouldn’t_ hear from me.”

At Slade’s words, Oliver’s head snaps back so that he’s now staring at the Alpha with a perplexed look of confusion.

The Alpha squeezes Oliver’s upper arm.

“Your mother. Talk to your mother about Isabel. She should know why,” Slade offers.

Finally, Oliver’s hand clasps tightly back around Slade’s own.

“Thank you, Slade. We’re okay.”

Slade has no idea if the Omega sees it but his eyes widen slightly at Oliver’s statement, at the mere notion that Oliver is extending forgiveness to him. Again and again, Oliver was able to forgive him even as more of the horrors Slade had committed were unveiled to the Omega.

And yet regardless of it all, Oliver was still so understanding... forgiving.

The brief calm that had settled over Slade’s mind is swiftly broken though.

“There’s just… one more thing I want to ask you. Something I don’t understand,” Oliver states.

Slade bites his lip beneath his mask.

“Sunday night, why didn't you also kill Sebastian Blood?” Oliver asks bluntly.

When Oliver fixes Slade with his deep, blue eyes, the Alpha can’t help but umm and ah for a moment.

Whether Slade had killed Blood or not, just the mere idea that Slade would probably didn’t sit well with the Omega.

“I really wanted to, I won't deny that. But… not only would you have disapproved of my actions, but... both Sebastian and Isabel's deaths would negatively impact on you.”

“What do you mean?” Oliver questions gruffly.

Squeezing Oliver’s hand to which the Omega squeezes back at, Slade also nudges his head into the side of Oliver’s neck. Anything to try and pick up a trace of Oliver’s scent which would hopefully give him an indicator as to the Omega’s emotions. As usual however, his Omega’s scent is muffled beneath a thick layer of chemicals—more so than usual with the scent neutralizer.

“ _Look_ ,” Slade states, pulling himself and his left hand back from Oliver.

“I'm not a fly on the wall, kid, but I saw you evidently seemed to support Sebastian's mayoral campaign. And it seemed enough people in the city did as well. You only want what's best for the city, and murdering Sebastian would have felt like I was hurting you by hurting those people in the city you care for so much.

Isabel’s relatively the same, only anything that happens to her impacts you directly—and negatively. She owns what is essentially fifty-percent of your company. If she suddenly were to drop dead or disappear, well, fingers would be pointed at you."

A tugging within Slade’s closed palm alerts him to the fact that Oliver is trying to get him to loosen his hold on him.

Releasing the Omega’s left hand, Oliver promptly pulls it back from Slade and holds it by his collarbone.

Slade can only stare at the Omega’s rather blank expression.

“Take this off,” Oliver says, his hand flicking out to trail down the side of Slade’s mask.

When the Omega withdraws his hand from grazing it over Slade’s mask, the Alpha instantly feels his face grow hot and flustered.

Did Oliver not think he was sympathetic _enough_? From just his words alone did Oliver not believe how bad Slade felt? Did his Omega need to see his face, the utter regret etched into it, in order to believe him?

Closing his eyes and succumbing to his fate, Slade slid his gloved fingers beneath the back of his mask and pulled it upwards and off his head.

His arm dropped lethargically to his side and Slade’s helmet clattered to the ground along with it.

Pressure on Slade’s shoulder caused him to snap his eyes open once more. Only to notice that Oliver was right there, up inside his guard, one of the Omega’s hands on his shoulder and the other pressing against Slade’s chest.

Slade can’t help that he cringes and arcs his head back from his Omega, but Oliver is instantly pulling him forward by the hold the Omega still has on him.

Any winces of anxiety that might have escaped Slade are silenced by Oliver fluttering his eyes closed, leaning forward and planting a warm kiss onto Slade's mouth.

Shock runs through Slade as his entire body goes rigid.

Slade’s eyes remained wide and open as Oliver’s lips pressed lightly but intimately against his own.

His Omega’s lips were soft, more so than they possibly had a right to be, considering the callouses and bruises on the rest of Oliver’s body. But the small kisses Oliver dots alongside Slade’s mouth are equally accompanied by stubble tickling the sides of Slade’s cheeks.

Heat pools in Slade’s face.

The Alpha closes his eyes.

Oliver’s nose brushes against the side of Slade’s as the Omega firmly pecks his Alpha’s mouth. What feels like Oliver’s tongue seems to trace over Slade’s lips before he can feel the Omega begin to pull back from him.

Gingerly, Slade tilts his head forward, eyes still closed, and presses a warm kiss onto the first bit of Oliver’s skin he comes into contact with. Which turned out to mainly be prickly stubble and Oliver lets out a chuckle seemingly in response to that.

“ _Here_ ,” Oliver whispers.

Immediately, Slade feels arms around his neck as Oliver guided him towards his face. The Alpha could feel Oliver’s breath ghost over his lips and instantly thought to move his own arms.

Opening his eyes, Slade notices Oliver staring back at him with a small smile. Even in the dark, Slade could pick the dark green smudges of paint around Oliver’s eyes. The Omega’s mask now hung around his neck.

Seemingly of their own accord, Slade’s previously rigid arms reach out to wrap around Oliver’s waist.

Oliver seems to allow this, sliding away from the wall and forward into his Alpha’s sideward embrace as Slade tightened his arms around Oliver.

Arms around Slade’s neck also kept his head craned towards his Omega. The Omega however leaned forward pressing his chest into Slade’s shoulder so that his forehead could meet with Slade’s.

Oliver bumped the bridge of his nose against Slade’s, fluttering his eyes closed.

A low but pleasant growl escaped Slade as he shut his eyes and leaned into Oliver’s gesture.

Their noses brushed together—or rather the sides of it did—as Slade could feel Oliver nuzzle his nose into the beginning of the Alpha’s cheek.

Warm breath ghosts over Slade’s lips as Oliver’s forehead remained connected to his own.

Leaning forward, nuzzling the Omega’s nose with his own, Slade taps a kiss onto Oliver’s mouth. Oliver returns the action, swiftly pecking his lips back against Slade’s.

A muffled laugh leaves Oliver as his lips graze over Slade’s nose.

“You’re really hot,” Oliver breaths out, dragging his upper lip back down Slade’s face.

Slade makes a strangled laughing sound before immediately brushing his nose back down Oliver’s.

“You think so?” Slade queries.

Then Slade crashed his mouth down onto Oliver’s.

Oliver’s hands swiftly come alive, briefly dancing across Slade’s neck.

The Omega’s lips part beneath Slade’s as the Alpha reconnects their mouths together. Forcing his mouth into Oliver’s and vice versa, Slade dragged his teeth over the Omega’s lower lip.

Oliver’s tongue darts out between Slade’s teeth, wetting both their lips. His tongue traced over Slade’s top lip as Slade nipped at his own bottom one. Teeth nibbled at Oliver half-bitingly, and the Omega would have made a slight giggle _(how fucking embarrassing)_ at how it tickled if not for the fact that his mouth was preoccupied.

Pressing his tongue into Slade’s upper lip, Oliver caught his Alpha’s mouth in a closed kiss after Slade withdrew his teeth from Oliver’s lip.

Their lips moulded together warmly and wetly.

Heat pooled in Oliver’s stomach and it was almost like he could feel his cock twitch as Slade’s hands tightened into his clothing.

_Can’t get a hard on though… Don’t get hard..._

If he does, Oliver knows there’s a good possibility he’ll also get slick.

It’s something Oliver learnt mainly from his five years away from his civilisation. That when he didn’t have pills of testosterone going into his body daily, whittling down his estrogen levels, _if_ he were to get turned on and hard… he’d likely get slick as well.

_And I haven’t taken any suppressants since Friday, as per what I agreed to Slade._

As if on queue, a shudder goes through Oliver’s body. The kind of shudder that made the Omega think all the nerve endings in his ass had just come alive. Which in turn made Oliver think he wanted to finger himself.

_Nope, nope,_ Oliver mentally pleaded with himself even as he was still returning his Alpha’s long, lingering kisses with closed eyes.

He still had things he wanted to do tonight, like get some patrol on the streets done once he managed to pry himself away from Slade.

Slade being this close to Oliver also reminded the Omega of the fact that he didn’t want Slade to notice the bruise on his left cheek. The bruise Slade had left on Oliver was hidden under concealer and had faded to a middling greenish-yellow colour but it was still somewhat tender to touch.

Oliver draws himself back from Slade’s next kiss, opening his eyes and releasing a short pant.

His Alpha might have joked about the fact that he was _‘hot’_ but he really was.

Flicking his tongue out over the traces of sweat and saliva Slade had left on his mouth, Oliver remembered he and his Alpha had at one point been having a serious conversation.

Slade grins at him as the Alpha’s hands scratched into Oliver’s lower back.

Redness burned in Oliver’s cheeks. Which had _nothing_ to do with the fact that his dick felt a bit hard. No, it was all Slade’s fault because he was _‘hot’_! Which the Omega still hadn’t corrected his Alpha on.

Shaking his head for a moment, Oliver then leaned forward and lightly tapped his forehead back against Slade’s.

“No, I mean—” Oliver starts, noticing there was a slight pang of _need_ and a shortness of breath evident in his tone of voice.

_Damn, Slade._

“—Your face is like burning up. But you’re always really hot. You’re just… more so than usual at the moment,” Oliver explained almost sheepishly.

_Slade is actually hot too as well..._

Flicking his head to one side, Slade flashes Oliver a toothy grin. Before Slade then leans forward into his Omega’s face, brushing his stubble over the side of Oliver’s.

Hot breath ghosted over Oliver’s ear as he stared off into space behind Slade’s shoulder.

“It’s normal for me, don’t worry about it, kid,” Slade murmured lowly.

Stubble tickles over the side of Oliver’s throat as the Omega felt his Alpha tilt his head. It was sensual and Oliver liked it as his Alpha growled lowly.

Oliver’s arms pressed down tightly around Slade’s neck.

The Omega could feel his hood had slid backwards slightly into his hairline.

“It doesn’t help either that you’re getting me all worked up with your twenty-questions bullshit,” Slade rumbles, following up his previous statement.

Even though Slade growled his words at Oliver, the Omega’s heart couldn’t help but flutter at his Alpha’s words. Despite Slade knowing or agreeing that he and Oliver had to talk about certain things, his Alpha always had a way of making it seem like he was never complacent with anything Oliver wanted.

_But_ —Oliver smiled—Slade’s actions always had this way of betraying him and revealing his true nature. His Alpha’s loyal, protective, blunt, but also somewhat chivalrous and gallant (always chasing after Oliver) nature.

Oliver muffles a chortle and Slade pulls his head away from the Omega’s throat at the sound.

Going to pull himself to his feet, Oliver unwinds his arms from around Slade’s neck.

Slade raises an eyebrow at this but allows Oliver to pull his own hands from the Omega’s body.

Getting to his feet, Oliver steps over his Alpha and plonks back down to his knees onto the concrete between Slade’s legs.

The Omega’s hands intertwine again behind Slade’s neck as he presses his chest forward onto his Alpha’s.

“What are you—” Slade goes to ask.

Oliver nudging his forehead back into Slade’s silences the older man though.

“—Lie back,” Oliver insists in a quiet voice.

Slade seems to get the gist of what Oliver is implying as when the Omega leans his weight forward onto the older man, the Alpha slides himself away from the wall he’d been supporting himself against.

As Slade’s back flopped onto the ground, Oliver pulled himself down on top of the man.

A slight grunt escaped Slade as the Omega dropped onto him.

Withdrawing his arms from around his Alpha’s neck, Oliver dragged his hands down Slade’s chest.

Oliver looked at Slade, fixing him with a smile as the Omega continued to support most of his body weight up off the Alpha.

“I didn’t actually expect you to have a reason for not wanting to kill Sebastian and Isabel. But you did… You didn’t for me. You're always thinking and considering me, even when you don't think you are. You're really kind of a sap, Slade,” Oliver chuckles.

For a moment Slade’s face is blank while Oliver speaks before the Alpha then frowns, lips pulling back into the beginning of a snarl.

Slade growls, low and warningly.

“ _Tch_ , shut it, kid,” Slade bites out.

The Alpha’s chest puffed out beneath Oliver as Slade inhaled deeply.

Automatically Oliver finds his legs sliding out from underneath himself as the Omega fully dropped himself on top of Slade.

Another slight grunt left Slade as the wind must have been forced out of the Alpha’s lungs as Oliver plonked down onto it.

Before Slade can respond or protest, Oliver nuzzles his head into the crook of his Alpha’s throat, taking in his scent.

His arms remained on Slade's chest, caressing over the thick padding there. It was a bit uncomfortable to lie on Slade’s torso with the bandolier and other holsters poking out of the Alpha’s vest. In spite of this, Oliver didn’t mind just lying atop his Alpha.

“No, but really,” Oliver offers, tilting his head back upwards so his gaze was in line with Slade’s.

“Thank you.”

The sides of Slade’s mouth quirked upwards into the beginning of a smile as the Alpha raised a gloved hand. As the Alpha did so, Oliver leaned into the side of Slade’s stroking fingers.

Said fingers flicked out and traced over the side of Oliver’s temple while the Alpha’s palm rubbed against the hidden bruise on the Omega’s cheek.

Slade’s face fully broke out into a smile as the Alpha let out a chuckle.

“Don’t you start referring to me as the prissy sap, kid. Look at you still wearing your makeup even under a mask.”

Both of Oliver’s eyebrows furrowed.

“Shut up, old man.”

Oliver’s mouth sought out Slade’s, pressing a soft kiss onto the older man’s lips. The warmth of Slade’s mouth and the Alpha returning his kiss still sent an electric current-like feeling running through Oliver’s body.

Slade’s hand clasps at Oliver’s hip as the Alpha’s other palm slaps the side of the Omega’s ass.

Pain and pleasure rushes through Oliver’s body (mainly to his dick) at the simple action as the Omega drew himself back from Slade’s kiss.

Slade rumbled quietly as Oliver settled back onto his haunches atop his Alpha.

“You are _good_ to me, kid,” Slade muses, giving Oliver’s ass cheek another good swat.

Redness burned in Oliver’s face and he flicked his head to one side to try and hide it from Slade.

“I’ll walk you home later, old man,” Oliver states.

The hands around Oliver’s hips tug him downwards to which the Omega obliges, falling back down onto his Alpha.

Slade and Oliver’s hands both re-encircle one another.

As the Omega lay there with his Alpha just enjoying his comfort, Oliver couldn’t help but think to himself.

_I think he loves me…_

_And I think I love him._

xxxxxxxx

Over the next few days, Slade continued to send Oliver flowers at Queen Consolidated under the guise that they were for Felicity. Yet Oliver saw hide nor hair of his Alpha. Probably due to the fact that when Oliver chaperoned the Alpha back home on Wednesday he’d told Slade to stay on bedrest and that he didn’t want to see Slade up on his feet until his back had healed.

On Thursday morning, white bell-shaped flowers arrived for Oliver at Queen Consolidated. The flowers were small, about a dozen of them occupying each individual stem of the bouquet’s flowers. They were _Lily of the Valley_ and _Amor Fati Flower Arrangements_ ’ website revealed the following about the flowers’ supposed meaning:

_Lilies of the valley are believed to bring luck to those in love. Sending lilies of the valley traditionally means that happiness has returned to the sender’s life and that they may feel complete with the recipient of the flowers in their life._

_Lilies of the valley are also recognised as the birth flower of May._

Embarrassment had flooded through Oliver upon uncovering the meaning behind the petite flowers Slade had sent him.

A part of Oliver (a small part) was enamoured with Slade’s gifts, though he still couldn’t fully appreciate whatever beauty the flowers may have held.

After his Alpha had sent him flowers for four consecutive days, Oliver was beginning to wonder if he and Slade felt the same way about one another. That four letter word that Oliver could finally admit to himself that he felt for Slade—love.

Another thing that Oliver had noticed about the lilies of the valley was that there were supposedly his birth flower. Which could have just been a coincidence, Slade choosing to give Oliver a flower that happened to correspond with the month of May, but Oliver didn’t think so. The fact that Slade likely knew when his birthday was without him ever telling the Alpha was slightly unnerving, but the Omega also found it warmed his heart.

On Friday, bright orange, large fanned-out sunflowers occupied Oliver’s desk. Or at least Oliver thought they were sunflowers, albeit the wrong colour. But they turned out to be _Marigolds_.

Apparently marigolds were supposed to mean:

_Marigolds may be a misunderstood flower as they have had varying, sometimes negative, messages over the centuries. Today, marigolds are sent to portray the sender’s passion for a relationship and drive to succeed in it. Marigolds exemplify that the sender is devoted and usually fiercely so._

_Marigolds are also recognised as the birth flower of October._

_Fierce and devoted_ , Oliver thought to himself, _yeah, that does sound like Slade._

What also stood out to Oliver about the marigolds was that they were another birth flower. Lily of the valley was the birth flower of May, which just happened to be the same month Oliver was born in.

So if marigolds were the birth flower of October, did that mean Slade was possibly born in October? Oliver didn’t think the assumption was unfair to make, though he had never asked Slade when his birthday was. Or even how old Slade was—though the Omega was willing to bet a decade and a bit older than himself—which seemed odd now that Oliver thought about it.

Things like birthdays, ages, favourite colours and pastimes were usually among the most common details exchanged early on in a relationship.

Oliver mentally files that information away to ask Slade another time.

If it weren’t for the fact that Oliver didn’t want to give his Alpha an excuse to get off bedrest, he would have texted the older man to ask him if the marigolds marked the end of the flowers Slade was sending him. Over the weekend Oliver had no obligation to frequent Queen Consolidated, which Slade most likely knew  from watching his movements over the past months.

When Oliver stared at his five bouquets of flowers Friday evening beneath Verdant, the Omega couldn’t help but lament that this was the end of his Alpha’s gifts.

After all, where else would Slade deliver flowers straight to him, under the guise that they were for someone else, if not at Queen Consolidated?

That night, after an evening of vigilante activity, Oliver decided to take the lilies of the valley home with him. Or rather, smuggle them out of the foundry. As while Diggle and Felicity would likely realise they were missing tomorrow, he didn’t need to openly tell his friends that the white, May birth flowers were his favourite.

xxxxxxxx

When he arrived home, Oliver found he was pleasantly unharassed by staff or family as he was alone in the foyer of the Queen Mansion. The lilies of the valley were in his hands.

Thankfully Oliver had managed to get the flowers home intact and unmangled by securing them in the box on the back of his bike that he often left unmounted from it. He thinks he’d left the box screwed onto his bike from recently when he brought Beta colognes.

Oliver lingers in entrance hall of the house, unsure what to do with the bouquet of flowers in his hands. Really he should stick them by his windowsill, somewhere that got sunlight and where the Omega could appreciate them. Beyond that, Oliver didn’t really know _how_ to take care of flowers though.

Somehow Felicity had ended up tending to Oliver’s flowers that he’d hoarded down in Verdant, which Oliver was perfectly fine with.

Brushing his fingers over one of the upside-down petals on a lily of the valley, Oliver wondered how he could keep these flowers alive for as long as possible.

Sighing, Oliver realised that likely no matter what he did, all the cut flowers he had would eventually die. His feelings, what he felt for Slade though, likely wouldn’t.

Shaking his head, Oliver attempted to rid himself of those absent-minded thoughts, before the Omega then proceeded to head into the kitchen.

The house was engulfed in relative darkness, meaning his mom and Thea were likely asleep.

Navigating his way through the darkened house purely off memory, Oliver only flicked on a light when he reached the kitchen.

Attentively, Oliver placed the bouquet in the sink and flicked the faucet on, providing the flowers with water.

Turning the sink off, Oliver’s hands wrapped around the bouquet.

“Oliver,” a voice called.

A jolt of fear surged up Oliver’s spine and his hands seized around the bouquet. Had it been glass or not still been sitting in the sink, the Omega thinks he might have shattered or dropped the bouquet.  

The scent of vanilla, underlined with powdery cinnamon tickled the insides of Oliver’s nose. It was similar to his own scent, Oliver realised, sort of a sickly sweet smell that only an Alpha could probably really appreciate. The Omega’s mind associated it with _‘mom’_ though, and Oliver flicked his gaze over to meet her.

His mother was stood in the archway of the kitchen, dressed in a floor length robe.

Moira’s arrival unnerved the Omega, though he supposes her appearance shouldn’t have been entirely unexpected. Ever since bodies had stopped turning up in the streets due to failed Mirakuru injections, crime had been relatively calm in the city meaning Oliver was returning home at more reasonable hours.

Before Oliver can open his mouth to make an excuse to explain away the flowers in the sink, his mother beats him to speaking.

“You’re home early,” his mother acknowledges.

Oliver pulls back from leaning by the sink as his mother closed the distance between them. Scratching the back of his head, Oliver offered Moira a smile.

“Yeah…” Oliver affirms.

“I figured I needed an early night.”

Instantly, Oliver mentally scolds himself. _Bad lie_.

He never had early nights, unless he was seriously injured or perhaps going into heat. As far as his family probably expected or knew, Oliver Queen was still a womaniser that likely spent his evenings in between pretty Omegas’ legs.  

Moira must let his poor lie slide though as she pulls her mellow, aquamarine eyes away from his own. Her gaze must land on the white flowers still sat in the sink as Moira reaches a hand out towards them.

Silently, Oliver curses himself. There was no way Oliver was going to be able to come up with two half-assed, not-entirely-shit lies in a row.

“When did you get these?” his mother asks, brushing her thumb over one of the flower’s petals.

To Oliver’s shock, his mother hadn’t asked him whom the flowers were from or if Oliver intended to give them to someone else. For a moment the Omega contemplates his response, before recognising how truly bad he was at lying on the spot. He’d try to stick as close to the truth as possible, but there was no way Oliver wanted his mother to know he had an Alpha (that he _liked_ ) sending him flowers.

“Oh, Thursday,” the Omega responds, yet can’t seem to keep the sheepish edge from his voice.

“They’re nothing, I just got them at work. They’re cluttering up my desk space so I’m not really sure what to do with them.”

Moira’s eyebrows furrowed as she lifted the bouquet out of the sink and placed it on the bench.

With trepidation, Oliver watched as Moira appeared to scrutinise his Alpha’s gift.

“You’re not intending to keep them in this crude, plastic container, are you?”

As if to emphasis her point, Moira tapped her fingernails against the base of the bouquet’s container.

Oliver shook his head, somewhat because he hadn’t expected that question from his mother but also because he couldn’t see a problem with the cylinder his flowers had come in.

Shrugging his shoulders, Oliver shoves his hands in his pockets.

“To be honest, I wasn’t really sure what I was doing with them,” Oliver admits.

His mother’s mouth formed a thin line as she fixed him with a sidewards glance before shaking her head.

“They’re lovely flowers, Oliver, but it’s hard to fully appreciate them when they’re presented in such a container.”

Bending over—which was amusing when Oliver thought about it, his mother actually bending over for _herself_ , but that was likely what a few months in prison did to her—Moira opened one of the cupboards beneath the sink. Before she promptly closed it and opened another one.

“We may have a glass vase here somewhere, otherwise I’ll inform Raisa to locate one tomorrow,” Moira stated, still scanning the inside of a cupboard.

Upon opening a third cupboard, Moira reached into it and pulled out a tall glass vase.

Oliver merely watched as his mom filled that vase with water before she gestured for him to hand her the lilies of the valley.

The male Omega decided not to remark on his mother’s articulate, old-fashioned way and just lifted the lilies out of their current container.

“I take it these are not from Miss Rochev,” his mom comments as she takes the flowers from him.

At his mother’s words, Oliver let out a short, dry laugh. Which reminded him that, as per Slade’s recommendation, he should ask his mother about Isabel.

_Not tonight though._

After arranging the flowers in the glass vase for a moment, Moira stopped and appeared to admire her handiwork.

“Lilies of the valley,” Moira muses aloud, which causes the hair on the back of Oliver’s neck to stand up.

Slade sending him flowers had officially never been more mortifying than now when he had his mother scrutinising them—almost like she was judging the worth of his Alpha’s gift.

Moira’s fingers trace over the flowers as her gaze re-finds Oliver’s.

“Aren’t these the birth flower of May?”

“They might be,” Oliver says with a shrug of his shoulders, trying to sound disinterested.

He was starting to get antsy in his mom’s presence. It seemed like she could almost _sense_ that the lilies of the valley meant more to Oliver than some mere decoration.

A smile graced his mom’s face as Moira pushed the vase back over the countertop towards him.

“You got these yesterday, right?”

“Yeah,” Oliver nods.

His mother sounds like she muffles a laugh as she folds her arms into either side of her robed sleeves.

Oliver raises an eyebrow slightly.

“You were born on a Thursday in May,” Moira remarks, offering Oliver a slight smirk.

_What_ , is the only thing Oliver’s mind seemed to be able to process. May 16 1985 was a Thursday? Slade sent him flowers that _just so happened_ to correspond with the month of May on the one day of the week that _just so happened_ to be a Thursday.

_What the fuck?!_

Redness burned behind Oliver’s cheeks.

It could have been a coincidence, yeah, but Oliver also wanted to punch his Alpha in the face right now for making him feel this way. For leaving him speechless and totally mortified in front of his mother like this. God knows what she thought of Oliver receiving and bringing home flowers like this.

Before Oliver can open his mouth to speak again, his mother’s disappearing around a corner, her robe trailing along behind her.

For a moment, Oliver stays frozen to the spot, before promptly grabbing the glass vase and hurriedly darting up to his room.

His Alpha was so not getting away with this!

xxxxxxxx

After showering and positioning the flowers outside on his balcony, Oliver collapsed into bed.

Despite the fact that Oliver’s phone read _11:17 PM_ , the Omega still didn’t think he’d fall asleep for awhile. His mind was awhirl with thoughts, pretty much all of which concerned Slade.

A scowl scrunched up Oliver’s face as he remembered what happened downstairs with his mother.

Just because he could admit to himself that he loved Slade—and he was fairly certain that the Alpha felt the same way about him—, did not give Slade the right to inadvertently embarrass him.

Within seconds, Oliver found himself texting Slade seemingly of his body’s own accord.

He didn’t expect an explanation for the flowers over text, but he’d at least like to know if Slade _planned_ to send him the lilies of the valley on a Thursday. Oh, and the marigolds—the October birth flowers—, Oliver couldn’t forget to ask the Alpha either if his birthday was indeed in October.

**_Hey, old man. You awake_** **,** Oliver typed out and sent.

Considering Slade’s sleeping patterns seemed similar to his own, Oliver imagined his Alpha might still be awake.

The Omega’s phone vibrated in his hand almost instantly after sending the text, proving Oliver right.

**_Slade: I’ll show you an old man in a fuckin’ sec._ **

A smirk grew across Oliver’s face. He wasn’t sure if the old man comment actually bothered the Alpha that much, but he did enjoy mocking Slade considering how much the Alpha did it to him.

**_Oliver: Maybe if you didn’t call me kid as much, I’d call you old man less._ **

**_Slade: Fine, Oliver._ **

Just from a mere text, Oliver could feel the sense of defeat that washed off his Alpha. Oliver allowed the smirk to vanish from his face.

**_Oliver: How’s your back?_ **

It’d been six days now since Slade had been injured and Oliver hoped the Alpha was heeding his advice to stay mostly on bedrest. As well as to only take the endone Oliver had given Slade in moderation.

**_Slade: I can walk, painfully, if that’s what you’re asking._ **

Frowning, Oliver began to type out a berated response to his Alpha before another message promptly came through from Slade.

**_Slade: Hey, I’m not walking around any more than necessary, but I do need to get up to piss, okay?_ **

Oliver scowled at his Alpha’s choice of words.

Were all Australians this vulgar or was it just Slade who was like this?

The Omega knew that this was the way his Alpha was though, so Oliver just rolled his eyes at Slade’s text.

**_Oliver: Fine, just don’t do anything stupid._ **

For a moment, Oliver’s fingers lingered over his phone, before he then typed out a second message.

**_Oliver: By the way, is your birthday in October?_ **

Slade’s flowers had been the reason Oliver had decided to text the older man in the first place.

**_Slade: What makes you think that?_ **

Reading Slade’s return text message, Oliver screwed up his face and flipped over in bed so that he was facing the balcony.

Outside, a half-shaped moon illuminated the sky, allowing Oliver to faintly make out where he’d left the lilies of the valley.

_That’s why, dickhead,_ Oliver almost wanted to text back to his Alpha but he refrained from doing so.

**_Oliver: You can’t send me my birth flower, then send me the October birth flower and tell me your birthday’s not in October._ **

**_Slade: So you have started to decipher something from those flowers. Fine, so my birthday is in October._ **

For a moment, Oliver waited for his Alpha to share the exact details of when his birthday was before then realising he was probably just going to have to ask.

**_Oliver: So when’s your birthday? It’s only fair that you tell me yours seeing as you know mine._ **

**_Slade: October 27th._ **

A smile graced Oliver’s face at the revelation of that small fact about his Alpha. He and Slade had known each other for over a year on the island, and yet they’d never really disclosed those little but significant details about themselves to one another.

**_What year,_** Oliver typed back to his Alpha.

**_Slade: Fuck off._ **

Part of Oliver wanted to laugh at Slade’s antics, but he also wanted a truthful answer to his question.

**_Oliver: I will guess in a second, because we both know you’re at least a decade older than me._ **

After a seemingly pregnant pause passed, Slade responded to his message.

**_Slade: 1972._ **

Doing the math in his head, Oliver thinks that made Slade… 41. So seeing as he was 28 and his Alpha was 41, that meant Slade was 12 and a half years older than him. Which possibly might have been weird to Oliver, yet he’d never really noticed the dozen year age difference between himself and Slade.

The Omega slapped a hand over his face at that thought.

He took it back. On the island, it was definitely evident that Slade was over a decade more mature and knowledgeable than he himself was.

Yet… in the past weeks that Slade and Oliver had been around each other—where and when it really mattered—the Omega hardly noticed whatever differences their ages created between them. Sure, they were likely raised very differently, but the harshness of the world and the pitfalls of life seemed to have moulded them into similar people.

**_Oliver: I actually thought you would have been older. Just because when we met on the island, you seemed… really worldly._ **

**_Slade: I’m going to let it slide that you implied you thought I was older than I am. But, I joined the Defence Force when I was 17 and was in Cadets the year before. Including ASIS, I did something like 19 years of service_** — ** _16 in the field_** — ** _before I met your dumbass._**

If Oliver’s chin wasn’t on a pillow he’s sure his jaw would have dropped at his Alpha’s statement. Slade had done 19 years of service by time they met while Oliver at like 22 had the greatest achievement to his name probably being how much fucking he’d done.

It half-mortified Oliver, what he’d been like over a half a dozen years ago.

The Omega’s phone vibrating in his hand alerts him to the fact that he had yet to respond to Slade.

**_Slade: You make a comment about dating such an old man, I promise I’ll show up at your house right now._ **

Oliver muffles a laugh, not doubting his Alpha’s willingness to want to show up at the Queen Mansion just to embarrass him.

**_Oliver: My parents have 8 years between them. Maybe I’ve been conditioned to like older Alphas._ **

**_Slade: Shut the fuck up. I’m going to bed._ **

Before Oliver can feel too amused with himself, his eyes flickering over the lilies of the valley outside reminded him of the fact that he hadn’t asked his Alpha everything he wanted to yet.

**_Oliver: Wait, one last question. What day is your birthday on?_ **

**_Slade: What do you mean, what day kid? I just told you October 27th._ **

Shaking his head, Oliver quickly re-worded his question.

**_Oliver: No, I mean, what day of the week were you born on?_ **

**_Slade: What fucking day? That’s weird, kid. Why would you care to know that?_ **

The Omega let out a growl.

Okay, so tactfully trying to work out if Slade knew he was born on a Thursday seemed to have failed. Maybe his Alpha truly didn’t know the former detail and Slade sending him the lilies of the valley yesterday was just a coincidence.

**_I dunno, just wondering,_** Oliver ended up typing back to his Alpha.

**_Slade: For your information though, I think I was born on a Friday._ **

A palm comes up to slap over Oliver’s face.

_You’ve got to be shitting me!_

Slade could not just send him the birth flower of May on a Thursday—the day Oliver was born—and then send him the birth flower of October on a Friday, on the supposed day Slade was born! Who cares if it wasn’t intentional! Oliver didn’t think Slade could have been more inadvertently direct with his feelings—more sentimental—than if he’d sent Oliver lilies of the valley and marigolds intertwined together in the same bouquet.

Oliver glares at his phone as it goes off again.

**_Slade: What, were you born on a Thursday? ;)_ **

Redness burned behind Oliver’s cheeks for what felt like the umpteenth time this evening. It was as if the Alpha had just read his thoughts and knew exactly what to say to mortify him once more.

**_Shut up,_** Oliver messages back to his Alpha before putting his phone on silent and dropping it into his bedside drawer.

xxxxxxxx

Oliver would have assumed because Slade couldn’t reasonably expect to send him flowers at Queen Consolidated over the weekend, the marigolds would have been the end of his Alpha’s gifts. Or so Oliver had thought, but when his phone vibrated with a text from Felicity in the midday of Saturday, the Omega was swiftly proven wrong.

**_Looks like Slade’s already been and gone from here_** _,_ the message from Felicity read. An image was also attached along with the text and upon opening it Oliver was unsurprised to see another bouquet of flowers. In what looked like the foundry, based off the steel table covered in _his_ arrows that Oliver could make out in the background of the photo.

_Dammit._ Slade knew his likely whereabouts of seemingly every moment and day almost too well for Oliver’s comfort. Accordingly, the Alpha knew exactly where he’d be in order for Slade to send flowers to him.

Swiftly, Oliver made for Verdant.

xxxxxxxx

Over the past few days, Slade and Oliver had been a very hush-hush topic of conversation between Diggle and Felicity. Though it was by no means a negative topic. When Dig had looked at Oliver over the past few days, and actually observed the Omega, he noticed it. Not necessarily a noticeable change in Oliver’s personality, but a definitive improvement in his overall mood.

The Omega smiled more, and he certainly seemed like he was more happy now with Slade around—or rather, since he and Slade had presumably sorted out their relationship woes. In general however, Oliver seemed less stressed and uptight, less run off his feet in between what was a full time day job and a sporadic night job. Some of the former probably had to do with the dead bodies Slade had been leaving around the city due to the failed Mirakuru injections no longer being a factor.

_But,_ Diggle thought to himself, it also seemed now that Oliver had found himself someone he felt he could talk to. Someone that understood him. And above all, someone who he was attracted to enough to Bond to, despite how much the Omega seemed to bicker about his Alpha and the flowers he was being sent.

So, as expected—shortly after Felicity’s sent Oliver a text about the flowers here—Oliver comes bounding down the stairs into the foundry.

Diggle hide the smirk that wanted to grace his face.

_And Oliver tries to act as if he doesn’t care for the flowers Slade’s sending him. Yet he comes darting down here at the first mention of them._

Coming down into the basement of Verdant, Oliver’s eyes scanned over his surroundings.

As expected, Felicity is sitting there behind her desk, flicking a pen between her fingers. Dig leaning across the same desk though is what surprises the Omega.

_Why is Dig here,_ Oliver mentally sighed to himself, knowing he and Slade had likely just been the topic of conversation before he half-barged in.

He still wasn’t quite used to the fact that his friends seemed to accept that he and Slade were Bonded. In Oliver’s head, he just couldn’t quite believe it, though he swiftly attempts to shake any lingering feelings of dread from his mind.

The Omega’s gaze flicked past his friends as he quickly surveyed the tables behind them.

Some of the previously free tables in Verdant were now occupied by the flowers Slade had sent him, sans the lilies of the valley. All of the flowers—even the hyacinths that Slade had sent Oliver on Monday—were still alive under Felicity’s tutelage. Albeit some of the flowers were starting to wilt and sag.

Beside the marigolds on the table was the new bouquet Felicity had texted Oliver a picture of. Red, orange, yellow, pink, and purple flowers ran up and down the stems poking out of the bouquet, though they were definitely all the same type of flower.

When Oliver made a beeline for them he saw the card hanging around the bouquet read _Gladiolus._

_Wow, they’re really beautiful,_ Oliver caught himself thinking before he swivelled his head around to meet his friends.

“When did these get here?” Oliver asked.

Felicity straightened up in the chair and steepled her fingers with the beginning of a smile on her face.

“They were here when I came to check the CCTV cameras about a half hour ago,” Felicity replied.

With a nod, the Omega found himself wandering over to his friends. He didn’t really want to look like he was _too_ infatuated with Slade’s flowers.

“Dig hasn’t seen Carly in awhile so we were going to get Big Belly Burger for lunch,” Felicity says, flicking her head in the Alpha’s direction.

Dig gives the Omega a nod as Felicity lightly jabs her pen into Oliver’s side

“You should come, you can whine about your Alpha over drinks.”

Oliver shakes his head.

_Why does everyone always say I whine about Slade? I do not!_

“Big Belly Burger doesn’t sell alcohol, Felicity,” Oliver deadpans.

“That’s the _point_. You’ve never been drinking and yet you’re always going on about how you _‘hate’_ all these flowers Slade’s sending you,” Felicity chimes, somewhat mockingly.

A low growl vibrates up the Omega’s throat as he watches Felicity point her pen in the direction of his flowers.

The Beta female merely smirked at Oliver.

Quickly, Oliver realised that the more antsy he got, the more he really only validated Felicity’s statement though.

“ _Alright_ ,” Dig’s voice strained from beside Felicity as he shot both the Beta and Oliver a quick look.

Immediately, Oliver grew quiet even as Felicity continued to stare back at him looking quite amused with herself.

Oliver folded his arms over his chest dejectedly.

“Speaking of which—” Dig starts, drawing Oliver’s attention, “Where is Slade? Looks like he just did a dump and run.”

As if to emphasise his point, Dig’s eyes wandered over to the newest set of flowers in the room. Felicity and Oliver’s gazes both followed the Alpha’s.

When Dig’s eyes found Oliver’s, holding the Omega’s own gaze with a firm stare, Oliver let out a sigh. The Omega dropped his previously crossed arms by his side.

Even without flicking Felicity a glance, he could almost sense the Beta’s eyes on him as well.

_Dig and Felicity probably think Slade and I are fighting again. Hence Slade sending me flowers but also appearing to keep his distance._

“ _We’re fine,”_ Oliver stressed the words to his friends as he held his palms out in front of himself.

“Though I did tell Slade I didn’t want to see him up and walking because… Slade got reasonably hurt the other night, appeared to have done his back in. I’ll… tell you about it over lunch,” the Omega explains.

Not telling his friends what was going on between himself and Slade— _specifically_ what Slade had told Oliver about Sebastian and Isabel—could only breed bad blood between them. Oliver knew that he’d rather tell Dig and Felicity the truth now than have them potentially pry for it out of him later.

When Slade’s back was mended and he could properly walk again, then Oliver and him would plan their movements regarding Sebastian and Isabel. They’d likely start with destroying the Mirakuru still at Queen Consolidated.

Dig makes a face and raises his brows at Oliver’s statement.

“Seems like Slade must be up and walking, but do you think he’s gonna be okay? I know Slade has the Mirakuru and all that that, which probably means he heals faster and better than you or I, but you worried, Oliver?”

The Omega shook his head.

“No, I think he should be fine,” Oliver affirmed.

“His back’s definitely been on the mend these past couple days, but I still told him I didn’t want to see him up and walking. That’s probably why he did a dump and run. ‘Knew I’d bite his head off if I saw him standing.”

For a moment, Felicity and Dig are both silent, seemingly pondering Oliver’s words as the Omega himself felt a growing tightness in his throat at the quiet.

When Felicity offers him a smile, Oliver manages to swallow around the lump in his throat.

“Well, I for one am hungry, and if you’re coming Oliver—you can pay. You still owe me after all for making me worry so much,” Felicity chimes.

Looking down at his feet, Oliver tries to hide his small smile. It seemed like Felicity had mostly let him off the hook for lying, or rather not telling her and Dig about what was happening between himself and Slade as soon as he should have.

“If I buy Big Belly Burger, do I get out of _ever_ having to come to your apartment and watch _Mean Omegas_?” Oliver inquired with a smile, though he was fairly certain he knew the answer.

Under his breath, Dig sounds like he muffles a laugh.

Felicity shook her head.

“No chance, Mister. You’re still in severe arrears,” Felicity stated, getting to her feet.

Oliver merely smiled, content not to debate the issue further as the three of them headed out of Verdant.

xxxxxxxx

Over Big Belly Burger, Oliver began to brief his friends on what had transpired between himself and Slade over the past few days.

Dig and Felicity grew quiet, eyes trained on Oliver as the Omega started to explain what had happened. Which started with Sunday and how he paid Sebastian Blood a visit in his office. Sebastian had mentioned Slade, which was what led to Oliver connecting up the dots as to Slade, Sebastian, and Cyrus Gold’s relationships.

Later that night, Oliver had mentioned dropping in on Sebastian in passing to Slade, just to see if his Alpha would reveal anything at the time. Slade didn’t, Oliver explained to his friends.

Regardless Slade was silent all of Monday, so that evening, Oliver went to Slade’s place and found him injured. Slade had been in a seemingly exhausted, sleep-like stupor state so Oliver had left him be.

Seeing Slade’s state however, allowed Oliver to piece together what he imagined happened the night before, but it wasn’t until Wednesday night that the Alpha sought him out to properly talk. The Omega’s suspicions had been correct, Slade had disclosed his relationship with Blood and confirmed that his injuries were indeed from going after Cyrus Gold in a fit of rage.

Slade had no doubt killed Gold, which Felicity and Diggle may have found condemnable, but Oliver told them he understood his Alpha’s plight.

His Alpha had arranged for Isabel Rochev to be at Queen Consolidated and Isabel had been manufacturing the Mirakuru from right out under their noses.

Felicity had fist pumped the air at this, stating that she knew Isabel was evil and out to sabotage them from the start.

A low growl had escaped Oliver then, the Beta female seemingly lumping Slade in with the likes of Isabel. Dig seemed to notice Oliver’s apprehension, the Alpha giving Felicity a quick look which the Beta seemed to sheepishly deflate under.

With that out of the way, Oliver relayed to his friends what he felt was most important about Slade’s actions, or rather inactions. Basically, Slade had known that murdering Isabel or Sebastian negatively impacted on him. Slade _knew_ that Oliver would have been iffy about their murders and accordingly hadn’t done anything.

This to Oliver spoke volumes, and he told his friends that once Slade was back on his feet they’d destroy the remaining Mirakuru. Then they would discuss and work out their movements regarding Sebastian and Isabel.

Both Dig and Felicity seemed to accept Oliver’s explanation and Slade’s actions, before the Beta piped up and asked how Slade sending Oliver flowers fit into all of this.

The flowers Slade was sending him were easy enough to explain away mainly because Oliver still had no idea as to specifically _why_ Slade was sending them.

Both Diggle and Felicity wagered the flowers were likely Slade’s attempts to earn goodwill with him and put whatever ill will there’d been between them in the past to rest.

At Felicity’s insistence, Oliver found himself looking up the meaning of the gladioli flowers. Though there was no way Oliver was reading the meaning aloud to his friends so he merely passed Felicity his phone after he’d finished reading the following:

_Gladioli traditionally come in multiple colours though all of the flowers share a singular meaning. Sending gladioli exemplifies faithfulness, sincerity and integrity from the sender. Gladioli also may represent infatuation on the sender’s part and that the recipient has pierced and wholly touched their heart._

_The gladiolus is also recognised as the birth flower of August._

To Oliver’s embarrassment, Felicity had gushed over how romantic Slade was, sending Oliver all these flowers with hidden meanings. Whereas Dig, more straight to the point, stated that he thought Slade seemed to treat Oliver well and was good for the Omega.

Relief and something akin to embarrassment had flooded through Oliver at Diggle’s words. Before Oliver then quickly changed the subject, sweeping the subject of himself and Slade under the rug where it stayed while he, Dig, and Felicity had lunch together.

Having this peaceful lunch with Dig and Felicity did make Oliver certain of one thing though. And that was that more than ever now, he was confident that he and Slade would work out.

Oliver wouldn’t let anything stand in the way of his budding relationship with Slade.

xxxxxxxx

The next morning, Oliver is going about his waking routine, which mainly consisted of cleansing himself of his Omega scent. He’s interrupted however before he can replace his scent with that of a Beta by his phone going off with a text.

At the sound, Oliver promptly snatches up his phone, thinking there is a good possibility it’ll be Slade messaging him.

Since Wednesday evening, he hadn’t seen Slade. The Omega had wanted Slade to stay on bedrest, mending his back. And so Oliver hadn’t made any attempts to go see him. Slade’s injury wasn’t really the Alpha’s fault but Oliver was also growing eager at the opportunity to see his Alpha.

He wanted to know the meaning behind the flowers Slade was sending him.

Upon looking at his phone, Oliver quirked an eyebrow at discovering it wasn’t Slade who had texted him.

It was Diggle… to Oliver’s mild disappointment.

**_Dig: Slade’s coming your way. He’s outside. ‘Just let him in. Thought I’d give you a heads-up._ **

At Dig’s message, Oliver nearly dropped his phone.

What did the Alpha mean Slade was outside? Like now? As in, outside Oliver’s house, right now?!

That must have been what Dig meant as the message on Oliver’s phone was less than a minute old.

_Shit_ , Oliver mentally cursed. Trust Slade to do something like this. The minute he thinks he might actually want to see Slade, the Alpha shows up at the one place he doesn’t want him.

Despite the fact that Oliver trusted his Alpha, he didn’t know whether Slade intended to embarrass him by showing up like this, or if the Alpha genuinely was here to see him. He also didn’t trust Slade to not just knock on his door and start conversing with his family, which Oliver one-hundred percent could not allow!

With that thought in mind, Oliver swiftly finished getting changed.

In the mirror, Oliver examined his cheek to see that the bruise Slade had left on his face appeared to have faded, so he wouldn’t have to worry about covering it up anymore.

Which was good, as Oliver hardly had time to worry about wanting to do so right so.

Oliver then darted downstairs to hopefully intercept Slade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Place your bets on if Slade has flowers for Oliver!
> 
> Firstly, I wanted to note that it wasn’t originally intentional to have Slade send Oliver his birth flowers on a Thursday. Though Oliver Queen’s canon agreed on birthday is May 16 1985, which was a Thursday. So ,then I knew I just had to go that route of Slade sending his birth flowers the next day on the respective day he was born.
> 
> Slade Wilson doesn’t have a canon agreed on birthday but I always mentally liked the idea that it would be in late October, making him a Scorpio. I thought it would be amusing if someone who traditionally wears black-and-orange—al la Slade’s Deathstroke suit—was born close to Halloween or on it.
> 
> Scorpio and Taurus (Oliver’s star sign), we think of them as a scorpion and bull respectively. We think of those animals as traditionally aggressive and dangerous, which I felt suited Slade and Oliver well.
> 
> Oh, and also, if you believe in chemistry or compatibility between star signs, Scorpio and Taurus are opposite each other on the zodiac wheel, hence as opposing signs they’re thought to have madly entrancing chemistry.
> 
> This sentence off the Astrology Zodiac Signs website I think best sums Slade and Oliver’s relationship up:
> 
> “As signs of fixed quality, when they click, it is impossible to separate them, and no one would want to when you consider the possible vengeance of Scorpio.”
> 
> Anyway, back to Slade’s birthday that I allocated him. I decided on October 27 because that’s still close to Halloween and Halloween for the year I was thinking he’d be born in wasn’t a Friday. I chose 1972 as Slade’s birth year because there are character bio sheets for Arrow season 1 and 2 floating around on the net. The bio lists Slade’s age as being 40, though who knows if that’s referring to Slade being 40 in the flashbacks or in present day.
> 
> Everyone else’s character bio lists their current present day age, I believe, so I’m going to interpret that Slade is supposed to be 40 around the time Oliver comes back to Starling.
> 
> I like the clean decade (12 years and 6 months) age difference between Slade and Oliver and I also feel it would fit in with the canon timeline.
> 
> Moira and Robert are also eight years apart, I believe, based on Moira’s character bio sheet and what’s on Robert’s grave.


	14. Hearts on Sleeves

As Oliver half-bolted, half-stumbled down the stairs into the main foyer of the Queen Mansion, he noticed there was no one else in the vicinity of the area. Which _slightly_ eased the Omega’s worries of his family finding out about his Alpha, but Oliver still found himself yanking open the front door.

When Oliver wrenched the door open he felt his heart skip a beat. Although, he shouldn’t have been surprised by his Alpha’s presence, he still found himself momentarily stunned.

Slade was standing there outside the door, leaning his shoulder against a wall. The Alpha was dressed in a leather jacket, jeans, and combat boots. There also didn’t appear to be any grey hairs around Slade’s hairline anymore.

And of course, there was a bouquet of vibrant, red flowers, covered by deep purple cellophane in Slade’s hand.

Without a doubt, Oliver knew that those flowers were roses. The Omega didn’t need to be an expert on the language of flowers, or even use the Internet, to decipher the supposed meaning behind the roses.

Roses exemplified passion, longing, desire, admiration, and devotion. But above all, Oliver took roses to mean love. A clichéd but romantic declaration of love.

Just looking at Slade suddenly made Oliver feel very warm and fuzzy inside.

With Oliver’s arrival, a toothy grin spread over Slade’s face.

“Your Alpha has arrived,” Slade declared, straightening himself up and then leaning inwards towards Oliver.

At Slade’s comment, the Omega was able to regain some wits about himself.

Swiftly, Oliver pulled the door shut behind himself and then took a step forward, shoving himself up into Slade’s face.

“And his presence is completely unwanted,” Oliver hissed quietly, jabbing his finger into Slade’s chest as he glared at the older man.

Cocking his head to one side, Slade raises an eyebrow at Oliver.

“Give us a kiss and we’ll see about that,” Slade comments with a wink.

Oliver balked, his face immediately growing flush as he recoiled slightly, back connecting with the door behind him. The Omega swore Slade just did these things to embarrass him. It’s not like his Alpha was actually suave, or charming, or anything else like that...

Slade’s free hand wraps around Oliver’s upper arm as the Alpha closes the distance between them. A quick peck of lips caressed Oliver’s cheek, before Slade then let out a hot ghost of breath over the Omega’s ear.

“Stop being such a tight ass. ‘Actually greet your Alpha with some respect and enthusiasm now will yah?”

Scowling, Oliver pushed Slade backwards out of his personal space.

The Omega shook his head, even as Slade remained staring at him with raised brows.

There was no way he wanted to talk to Slade outside the front door of his house where they were somewhat likely to be seen.

“Come on,” Oliver huffed.

Completely ignoring and acting oblivious to the flowers Slade had for him, the Omega strode past Slade. He grabbed the Alpha by his free hand and began to tug the older man along with him.

Slade allowed himself to be shepherded along by Oliver as the Omega walked them past boxwood hedges and blooming flowers.

A slight chill in the air nipped at the bare skin around Oliver’s neck even as there was no breeze in the air. Warmth emanated from Slade’s hand though and Oliver was content to have his palm half-wrapped around his Alpha’s own. Yet Oliver wasn’t ready to fully intertwined his hand with Slade’s, not when he was still mildly irritated with him.

After dragging Slade several metres away from the Queen Mansion, Oliver slowed his gait to a walk, confident now that they were unlikely to be seen.

“Diggle was kind enough to let me in,” Slade states, moving up beside Oliver even as the Omega continued to walk purposefully like he had a specific destination in mind.

The Omega let out an exhale.

_Well, at least Slade didn’t just let himself into my house this time._

“Is it okay for you to be walking right now?” Oliver asked seriously.

It had only just dawned on him that Slade was walking without a limp, nor was the Alpha hunched over anymore.

As Oliver’s eyes fell on Slade, the Alpha threw his head to one side and tsked at him.

“I can manage walking just fine. It’s the sitting down and getting up part that is still painful. I think the Endone is making it tolerable at least.”

Oliver merely nodded.

A lone bird chirped in the branches above them as Oliver and Slade walked beneath a canopy of trees that marked the entryway to one of the botanical gardens on the Queen property.

“By the way, thanks for the pain meds,” Slade says.

Slade lightly squeezes Oliver’s palm while his other hand remained cradling the bouquet of roses to his chest.

“And the Zoloft as well. I’ve been feeling alright these past couple days, sleeping a bit better. I think our chat on Wednesday night helped as well.”

For the first time since they’d started walking, Oliver turned to look at Slade. Even though it probably wasn’t wise for Oliver to be sharing _his_ psychiatric medication (and non-prescribed pain meds that he acquired through his own means) with Slade, the Omega was still warmed by the fact that his Alpha seemed to have been helped by Oliver’s actions.

Offering up a smile to Slade, Oliver let go of his previous irritation towards Slade. His Alpha returned the gesture, though Slade’s eyes were too tempting for Oliver to think Slade was doing anything other than smirking at him.

The Omega’s eyes re-found the path they were walking along.

He couldn’t really deal with looking at Slade right now. Redness burned behind Oliver’s cheeks and the Omega hoped his blush wasn’t visible.

Maybe Oliver could blame the extra estrogen in his system—due to the lack of suppressants there—for why he felt like he was suddenly going to turn into a puddle whenever he was around Slade. But who was Oliver kidding, he was turned on by and infatuated with Slade well before he went off his hormone suppressants.

Opening the palm of his hand, Oliver briefly slid his hand out of Slade’s before properly lacing their fingers back together. The Omega clasped tightly at his Alpha’s hand and Slade clasped back.

Properly holding Slade’s hand now, Oliver noticed the difference in Slade’s body temperature from what it was on Wednesday, though his Alpha was still definitely running hot.

“Your fever’s gone down,” Oliver remarked, wanting to make small talk to keep his rampant thoughts at bay.

_Why don’t you just tell Slade you want him to fuck you? Just get it out in the open and over with. Then maybe you’ll feel better._

“I think it's a Mirakuru thing. Whenever I get hurt, my body usually runs really hot. I think it's my body fighting off any potential bacteria and shit. 'Makes it so I don't really get sick,” Slade explained.

Oliver breathed a sigh of relief. From Slade’s explanation, his Alpha’s fever-like state the past couple days had been nothing to worry about.

Before them the singular path beneath the canopy of mostly orange-leafed trees gave way to a large garden courtyard. White wooden benches were dotted here and there amongst hedges and shrubbery that had yet to fully flower.

Ivy grew up and encompassed trees that had been specifically planted near the benches so as to offer shade. Urn-like statues and birdbaths could be seen around the edges of the gardens and by the ornate pathways that branched off into other parts of the Queen property. In the middle of the hedges and flora sat an ivory stone fountain. A few water lilies and lotuses floated atop the fountain’s water.

Beside him, Slade distinctly makes a sound like he’s deeply inhaling, and out of his peripheral vision Oliver notices Slade’s nose brushing over the collar of his winter coat.

A brief, short growl escaped Oliver as he realised Slade appeared to be scenting him.

His Alpha seems to get the message though as Slade pulls back from him.

“You smell nice,” Slade remarks, his lips curling and his brows lowering into the beginning of a smirk.

Flicking his gaze away from Slade, Oliver scoffed. Before the Omega promptly ceased walked and his hand tensed around Slade’s own.

_I ran out of the house before I put any Beta cologne on._ And of course, that was due to Slade’s unannounced arrival, hence the former was all Slade’s fault.

The Omega just shakes his head though.

“You could have said something before,” Oliver sighed.

_Maybe if Slade had said something I could have ran back inside and had some Beta concealment on by now._

Just the concept of not having it on and exposing himself as Not-A-Beta left Oliver uneasy, though Slade clearly didn’t seem to mind his scent.

Slade’s thumb stroked over Oliver’s knuckles, which the Omega found helped dissipate whatever worries he had at the forefront of his mind.

“ _Well_ ,” Slade starts, drawling the word.

“You seemed worked up enough as it is without me saying _anything_. So settle petal. ‘Don’t think I don’t appreciate smelling your true scent at least. By the way, you stop taking your suppressants?”

As if to emphasis his point, Slade then nudged his nose back into the side of Oliver’s neck.

At the gesture, Oliver was reminded of the fact that he hadn’t taken any suppressants since last Friday, over a week now. He almost couldn’t believe that after being on and off hormone suppressants for over a decade, it was the idea of sex with Slade that got him going off them. Despite how much Oliver despised going into heat, sex would be easier when he could produce more natural slick, _off_ the suppressants.

“What gave it away?” Oliver asked, though it was obvious what did.

Leaning over, Slade brushes his nose over Oliver’s scent glands, taking a deep inhale of his mate’s scent. Somehow Oliver seems to allow the former even as Slade feels the Omega staring at him while he gave the younger man a good sniff.

Slade knew Oliver _would_ bend over at the prospect of a good fucking (and he would definitely get his Omega to do just that), even if that meant going off his suppressants to make the process easier.

It was the potency of Oliver’s sweet, vanilla scent that Slade truly relished. That difference between were before Slade had to be close to Oliver like now to enjoy his scent, but today the Omega’s scent wafted off of him.

Watching Slade give him a sniff, Oliver again noticed the lack of grey in the Alpha’s hair.

“You dyed the grey out of your hair,” Oliver mused, a smile re-gracing his face.

At the Omega’s comment, Slade craned his neck back from Oliver’s throat. The Alpha grinned.

“Ah, but you noticed,” Slade growled lowly, the words practically rolling off his tongue.

The Omega let out a laugh. Maybe the old man comment really had been getting to Slade, though Oliver hardly minded either way. Grey hair or no grey hair, Slade was still his old man. Just as Oliver likely wouldn’t be able to get away from the kid comment regardless of the fact that he was near on thirty.

As the Omega remained still and rooted to the spot, he found himself gazing at his Alpha. The Alpha’s eyes held a warmness and Oliver found himself drawn to them, as well as to the roses in Slade’s hand.

Stroking Slade’s hand within his own, Oliver offered his Alpha a coy smile.

“You gonna give me those flowers?” Oliver questioned playfully.

Tilting his head to one side, Slade made a _hmm_ sound.

“You didn’t ask,” Slade then purred, hugging the bouquet of roses closer to his chest.

Oliver couldn’t help but quirk his eyebrows and purse his lips at the Alpha’s statement. If one of his hands wasn’t intertwined with Slade’s, he’s pretty sure he would have crossed his arms so as to just further emphasis his point.

It wasn’t like Oliver had to ask for the last six bouquets Slade had sent him. They were more or less forced onto him.

After a moment, a genuine smile softened Slade’s features, the knowing smirk disappearing, and Oliver muffled a sound of amusement.

Straightening up, Slade untangled his hand from Oliver’s before the Alpha wrapped both his hands around the bouquet he had.

“Here,” the Alpha stated, outstretching his arms and offering the bouquet of roses in his hands to Oliver.

“These are for you, kid.”

Oliver opened his arms to accept Slade’s gift as the Alpha passed the flowers to him with a surprising amount of attentiveness.

As Slade passed Oliver the bouquet, the Omega leant forward, catching his Alpha’s mouth in a kiss.

Slade’s lips met and melted warmly onto his own in a quick display of passion. Stubble caressed Oliver’s cheeks as he found himself closing his eyes, holding his Alpha’s lips in a closed mouth kiss.

The Alpha mumbles something, or maybe he laughs, but it’s inaudible as Slade’s lips and forehead remained connected to Oliver’s own.

Warm fuzzy feelings radiated throughout Oliver’s body, and had he not been supporting the bouquet in his hands, he would have been wrapping his hands up in his Alpha’s.

Oliver deeply inhaled through his nose, relishing his Alpha’s musky, sandalwood smell and the taste of Slade’s chapped lips upon his.

It’s Oliver who draws himself back from their single but lingering kiss. Otherwise, they could have been there for awhile and things would have likely escalated between them to more than just a mild peck.

‘Couldn’t risk a boner that Oliver wasn’t sure he’d be able to just will away.

Staring at Slade, Oliver found the Alpha gazing back at him with a look, the older man’s features softened by what was surely Oliver accepting Slade’s roses.

Supporting the bouquet against his chest, Oliver freed up his right hand before guiding that hand back to Slade’s.

Opening his own palm, Slade let Oliver tangle their fingers back together.

“Come on,” Oliver says, flicking his head to one side in the direction of a white bench sat across from the fountain centerpiece.

“Let’s sit.”

Oliver takes a seat at the bench whereas Slade sort of more plonks down beside him, slumping down with little grace. A low groan escapes Slade as the Alpha shoves himself upright on the bench more, making Oliver think Slade’s awkward process of transitioning from standing to sitting was due to his spinal injuries still mending.

As Slade righted his seating so that he was sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with Oliver, the Omega pressed his knee to the side of his Alpha’s and shimmied over on the bench so that he was as close to Slade as could be.

Slade let out an exasperated sigh as the Omega watched the Alpha bite his top lip for a second.

Without really thinking about his actions, Oliver finds himself slotting his head into the space between Slade’s cheek and shoulders. Their hands quickly re-entangled together after Oliver brushed his fingers over the Alpha’s knee.

The roses lay on Oliver’s lap.

His lips lightly brushed over the side of Slade’s stubble, not quite a kiss, as the Alpha responded by covering Oliver’s hands with his own and then beginning to stroke them.

For a moment, Oliver waited for Slade to release another low noise of discomfort, the Alpha seemingly like he was having difficulty sitting without aggravating his back. But it didn’t happen, Slade remained silent.

“You’re such an old man,” Oliver mused lowly with a chuckle, amused by Slade having momentarily struggled to sit down without discomfort.

“Shut it kid,” Slade responds, though without any real bite in his voice.

His hands remained encompassing and caressing Oliver’s own though.

Oliver’s eyes flicked over the roses on his lap, before his eyes re-found Slade’s, the Alpha’s gaze fixated back on him.

Attentive dark eyes watched Oliver, though the lack of tension on Slade’s face made the Omega think his Alpha was content.

“So… do you wanna tell me what sending me these flowers was all about now?” Oliver asks softly.

“My mum—I suppose I call her my mum but she’s my sire—she fuckin’ loved flowers,” Slade started, a smile growing across his face.

“And not just flowers either, but like giving ‘em, growing ‘em—even though she was shit at it—, the language associated with flowers.”

At Slade’s words, the gears start to turn in Oliver’s head.

_Sire?_ It’s not a term Oliver has heard used much growing up in his family, but after a moment Oliver remembers how and why the word is used.

To Oliver, his parents were mum and dad, even though the terms of ‘mother’ and ‘father’ were often used interchangeably between dynamics and genders. It was really just a matter of what each individual parent wanted to be referred to as, though Oliver knows he wouldn’t accept being called ‘mom’.

Sire and dam was the legal terminology you couldn’t get away from though. Slade’s mum was his sire, meaning she had to be an Alpha female. And albeit Oliver liked to pretend he was a Beta male—a sire—he was in fact an Omega male. A dam, meaning he could only carry offspring as his sperm was biologically useless.

For a moment, Oliver wonders if Slade’s dam was another female or an Omega male? The Omega diverts his attention away from his thoughts however when he hears his Alpha begin speaking again.

“She was kind of a crazy bitch—about a lot of things, yeah—but flowers in particular. And I mean that in the nicest way possible,” Slade remarked with a smirk.

A slight chuckle left Oliver. Trust Slade to speak about his own mother that way.

“She was always very adamant about letting me and dad know just how much she loved flowers. ‘Gave my dad flowers for several consecutive days during one of their initial meetings. My mum insisted that was a proper display of courtship.”

The Omega grinned at Slade’s words. It sounded to Oliver like Slade’s mother’s appreciation of flowers had eventually taken root in Slade.

“Was that why you set me flowers?” Oliver asked, his eyes watching Slade as the Alpha continued to seemingly stare off into the space in front of them.

_Because that’s how your mother taught you how to court an Omega_ , Oliver’s mind supplied.

“I already told you—” Oliver starts softly, however Slade’s hands tensing around his own causes the Omega to grow silent.

Slade shakes his head, eyes closed, before turning to look at Oliver.

The Alpha’s palms around Oliver’s own suddenly felt hotter and clammier than they did before.

When Slade’s gaze met Oliver’s, the Omega could tell there was some hidden emotion behind his Alpha’s heavy lidded eyes. Whatever it was though, it wasn’t quite apparent in the Alpha’s voice when he spoke in a gruff, stern tone.

“I don’t care if you say we’re already Bonded, kid. I wanted to do it, I wanted to send you these flowers. And not just ‘cause if my mum was here, I’m pretty sure she would have scolded me otherwise. No, I wanted to do something about you and I… us. ‘Give yah something, show yah that I’m here to stay. And I hope you understand what I mean from those flowers I’ve been sending yah.”

As Slade looks Oliver dead in the eyes, the Omega can feel his stomach fill with butterflies. His tongue flicks out over his lips at the knowing look Slade was giving him.

Oliver fixes his gaze on a spot behind Slade’s shoulder as his mind began to run rampant with thoughts. All the meanings of the various flowers Slade had sent him flitted through Oliver’s head.

On Monday, the purple hyacinths, Slade was sending him an apology, a plea for forgiveness. No doubt the Alpha had felt bad about the way things had come to be between them. About the fact that Slade and he were once at each other’s throats.

Tuesday, the pink azaleas, Slade was telling him to take care of himself. Even if it was only just for Slade’s sake.

Wednesday, the blue violets, Slade was telling him that they’d make their relationship work no matter what.

Thursday, the lilies of the valley, Slade was telling him that his life was complete with Oliver in it.

Friday, the marigolds, Slade was telling him that he was devoted and committed to him.

Saturday, the gladioli, Slade was telling him that he was infatuated with him.

And today, with the roses, Slade was sending him a declaration of love.

Instantly, Oliver wonders if he should say I love you back to Slade. It was after all, how he felt. But embarrassment flooding through Oliver makes the Omega think if Slade was _implying_ that he loved him, Slade should say it to him first.

Quickly, Oliver thinks to say something, change the subject before Slade notices his silence.

“I’ve never heard you talk about your parents before,” is the first thing that spills out of Oliver’s mouth.

At Oliver’s words, Slade’s mouth dropped open slightly and his eyes narrowed. Before the Alpha then dragged his eyes away from Oliver.

“They’re gone,” Slade states flatly.

Oliver’s heart sinks in his chest as he looks at his Alpha. He instantly feels bad for saying anything. The Omega strokes Slade’s hands as best he can even as the Alpha’s palms were mostly encompassing his own.

“My mum had Hep C,” Slade muttered out.

_Hepatitis,_ Oliver thought to himself.

“Isn’t there a vaccine for that?” Oliver asks.

Slade shook his head, his hands tightening slightly around Oliver’s.

“That’s Hep A and B. There’s no vaccine for C. C is the worst.”

Oliver’s mouth thinned into a line.

“I’m sorry,” Oliver apologises after a moment.

Immediately, Slade turns to face him, offering Oliver a pained smile that didn’t reach his eyes. Then the Alpha squeezed Oliver’s hands still within his own.

“Don’t be,” Slade responded, “It was a long time ago.”

When Oliver remained staring at Slade though, the Alpha knew his Omega didn’t quite believe his words. That the death of his parents didn’t still affect him.

A stabbing sensation in Slade’s chest told him that the former was a half-truth. The pain of losing his parents was gone, but the pain from their betrayal was not.

Slade’s eyes flicked over the roses on Oliver’s lap as he remembered the flowers he had left for Oliver at Verdant yesterday. The gladiolus, the birth flower of August. Though Slade wondered if Oliver even noticed that they were a birth flower.

For seemingly the longest time, the gladiolus had been Slade’s least favourite flower. He hated that fucking flower even, couldn’t stand the sight of it.

Letting out a sigh, Slade couldn’t help that his mind was plagued with grief and memories. His eyes stared back at Oliver but his mind’s eye was elsewhere.

xxxxxxxx

_When Slade was thirteen he remembered finding out his mother had Hepatitis C, or more importantly Cirrhosis._

_His father had called him to the kitchen table as he stood around the hallway listening to his parents talk in hushed whispers. As of recently, they'd talked a lot, late at night in quiet tones. For all he knew, they could have been talking about him. Often Slade got in trouble at school for punching other boys that called him a shorty or a nigger._

_When Slade sat at the table with his mother and father, he had no idea of the bombshell they were about to drop on his world._

_His mother—Sherry Wilson, simultaneously the toughest and nastiest bitch Slade knew… Her liver was failing, and Slade knew that was also the only reason he ever got to know of his mother’s condition._

_Somehow Slade’s father had remained poker-faced the entire time as Sherry did most of the speaking._

_Slade didn’t ever remember abusing his mother as much as he did that night. Swearing at her until he was blue in the face and then running to his room, slamming it behind him so he could cry where his parents wouldn’t see him._

_For all the times that his mum forced him to watch her sow seeds in their mostly dirt garden, or sit with her as she fried up barramundi in their kitchen for seemingly hours on end… None of those occasions, the annoyance he felt for his mum, came close to rivalling the hatred Slade felt for his mother over the passing months._

_His mother had been a heavy alcoholic—which Slade likely inherited from his mother—often enjoying to break out a bottle of Bundaberg Rum for dinner while she cooked. And just because his mum had been diagnosed with liver failure, that didn’t mean she was going to stop drinking._

_Slade and his father—Marama Henare, Sherry often just called him Mara—spoke with his mother relentlessly about her giving up alcohol and more importantly seeking treatment for her failing liver. Usually this meant Marama would sit their tight-lipped next to Slade’s mother while the young Alpha pleaded, more often screaming at his mum._

_Sherry and Marama had often struggled to make ends meet, working as a farmhand and plumber respectively, and Slade knew of his parents hardships. There were times where he’d went to school without any food, and bullying money out of other kids for tuckshop was the only way Slade knew how to feed himself._

_Knowing he and his parents didn’t have the money didn’t make it any easier on Slade though when his mum told him she wasn’t going to pursue treatment._

_Most of all, Slade despised his mother for that, for seemingly giving up when she could still fight._

_Even if they had the money, Slade still didn’t think his mum would pursue treatment. She was too proud and stubborn to ask for help. Valued leaving money for her fiancé and son over using that money to help herself._

_Somehow Slade’s dad was never abusive with her like Slade was. More often, Slade’s parents would sit on the couch while his father cried, or so that's what Slade thought based on having his ear up to the living room’s brick wall._

_As time passed, Slade’s brimming hatred towards his mother—for her decision to leave him and his dad—lessened, though not because he understood her decision any better. She was selfish, but Slade could put that to the back of his mind when he was spending time with her._

_No more did Slade complain when his mother dragged him out into her mockery of a garden to water the plants. He even took an interest in helping her prune the cut flowers that she had occupying their house, and Slade would also listen to her gabble for ages on end about birth flowers and the significance of flowers._

_Eventually, Slade’s mother’s skin grew fish-belly yellow and the whites of her eyes looked more like the yolks from the insides of eggs. His mother resigned from her job as a farmhand, spending more time taking naps during the day, and Slade could see she was growing thin._

_Around this time, Slade also stopped picking as many fights at school with people who just simply glared or looked at him funny. Usually when Slade got pulled up at school for bashing other kids, his mother would scold him relentlessly when she found out, whereas his father seemed to understand that Slade’s skin tone got him picked on._

_Yet, Slade didn’t think now that his mum would put as much effort into berating him for getting into petty squabbles. The Alpha female never said anything to him about it, but Slade imagined she was often in pain. Often he’d hear his mum complain about her back aching or her feet being sore to his father._

_His mother was going downhill. She bled more easily and her wounds seemed to piss out blood from simple things like a prick from a rose’s thorns._

_Her stomach became very rounded, bulging out, which looked odd considering the rest of her body had grown thin. If she was a Beta or Omega, Slade might have thought she was pregnant, but Alpha females couldn’t get pregnant. And so, his Alpha female’s mother’s stomach becoming rapidly distended like it was… clearly wasn’t normal._

_Slade’s father couldn’t afford not to work to stay home with his deteriorating mother. In fact, his father ended up picking more jobs—mostly pipe laying—to try to provide for the three of them. As such, Slade picked up more jobs around the house and always walked the blocks home from school as quickly as he could._

_At first Slade watered what flowers had actually grown in their front yard, which mainly turned out to be daisies and asters. Loyal love and contentment respectively is what his mother said the flowers meant. It took a lot of effort on her part to grow anything in their dry yard and Slade sometimes wondered why his mother didn’t just buy proper plant soil and pots. Maybe it was because of her very ‘do-it-yourself’ attitude._

_Next, Slade started to make dinner more often while his mother oversaw his actions and later just instructed him from afar. Slade ended up going down the neighbourhood to the shops with the coloured dollar bills his mother gave him for groceries. He always brought a receipt back with him._

_The young Alpha tried to do everything for his mum, anything he could to seemingly make her stay here in this life with him. Although Slade’s father wouldn’t openly show it in from of him, Slade could feel the grief and depression roll off his dad in waves._

_In early May, Slade decided to give his mother a gift. Or more precisely grow her one in time for her birthday, though the young Alpha doesn’t dare ask how old she is._

_On the weekend, Slade brought a few packets of flowers seeds with his pocket money, or rather spare tuckshop money that he’d bullied out of kids over the years. He had allocated himself plenty of time to grow the flora for his mum’s birthday on August 10th, as he had learnt from a gardening centre store clerk that these flowers could take anywhere from nearly two and a half to three months to fully flower._

_Slade was adamant though about growing his mum some gladiolus, the birth flower of August, otherwise known as the sword lily. He’d learnt from his mum during one of her many ramblings about flowers, that the gladiolus was shaped like a sword and was said to pierce the heart of whoever you sent it to with love. Or was it the other way around, that sending gladiolus to his mother would mean that Slade’s heart had been pierced with love?_

_Either way, it was a flower that represented love, which meant it was perfect for Slade to give to his mother, in addition to it being her birth flower._

_His mum seemed to be getting sick more frequently as of late. Often she was asleep when Slade got home from school and she never seemed to eat much of what the young Alpha cooked at dinnertime. Often she had a bottle of VB in her hand however, so that was something._

_With her yellowed-pale, gaunt skin but distended stomach, flushed palms, and red blood vessels sticking out in her arms and legs like spiderwebs, Slade knew his mother looked haggard._

_Recently, she’d been to the doctor, and Slade only knew that because of the appearance of some medicine bottles that weren’t there before by the jar of flour on the kitchen counter. The medicine bottles had his mum’s name on them—SHERRY WILSON—and Slade figured they were for pain. Pain his mother would never admit to him existed but Slade knew must have when his mum made grunts of pain or swore about her ‘damn back’ or ‘fuckin’ ascites’._

_Yet, Slade also didn’t think any pills or medicine out of a bottle was going to save his mum. He remembered over a year ago—before his mum got bad… before she got worse—hearing his dad talk to his mum about her possibly looking into a liver transplant._

_Apparently a liver transplant could give his mum a new liver, and that would mean she wouldn’t have a failing liver or Cirrhosis anymore. His mum would still have Hepatitis C but Slade’s dad said to her that if she gave up alcohol and looked after her liver, she could be ok. She shot that idea down in flames though, apparently they just didn’t have the kind of money for that._

_Slade wondered now if his sickly skinny mother could still be saved by a liver transplant? Could she get better?_

_He didn’t really know and he didn’t want to think about it._

_She was always still really narky at him though,—Slade thinks he learnt of the existence of the word ‘cunt’ from her and that if he said it at school it would offend. Often she would berate him for so much as showing concern for her. Sometimes, Slade didn’t get his mum, he understood his dad more. His dad who seemed to share Slade’s sadness over his mum’s declining condition._

_However, Slade knew what he could do for his mother. Something she would like as the Alpha female rarely left the house or walked far anyway due to her swollen legs and feet._

_Watering her flowers had once been among Slade’s responsibilities, but those plants had long since withered and died and his mum had yet to plant anything since._

_Out in the garden, Slade planted all of the gladiolus seeds partially in the shade of a large dying gumtree._

_The seed packets for the gladiolus showed all different coloured flowers, from mellow yellows to blood reds, so Slade hoped when they bloomed he’d be given a whole rainbow of colours from which to create a bouquet for his mother from._

_When Slade was at the garden centre he’d also learned that just because the coming months were winter, that shouldn’t too badly diminish the chances he had of the gladioli flowering. In fact, the blistering Australian summer heat was apparently worse for them, the harsh warmth more likely to reduce the flowers lifespan. It didn’t snow in Darwin so the wet, but still steamy, Australian ‘winter’ should be fine to grow the flowers in._

_As the gladiolus naturally grew over time, so too did Slade’s mother naturally worsen over time. However, she continued to be a nasty bitch even as she spent more time asleep and Slade’s father spent more time by her bedside. She was close… Slade knew that, and because of that the young Alpha allowed himself to cry into his mother’s side most days of the week._

_As his mother spoke to him of poppies, golden wattles, and kangaroo paws—’traditional Aussie flowers’—she’d stroke her blunt-nailed fingers through his hair._

_Apparently he had fluffy hair for an Alpha boy, she said. He needed an Omega to toughen him up, she said to which Slade frowned at. Omegas his age had barely a scent at all, they were just like Betas, so why should Slade like them? His mum told him they would however, one day he’d like Omegas. Otherwise, his mum would kick his ass if he preferred the smell of Betas or other Alphas._

_Her words comforted Slade and the Alpha always kept the growing flowers he had in the front yard a secret from her so he could surprise her with them._

_Day in, day out, Slade would water the gladiolus outside as their stems popped up through the earth and they began to grow._

_Quickly enough, Slade’s dad found out about the flora he’d been sowing in their front yard. Slade hadn’t known how to explain wanting to do what he was doing, but his father seemed to understand regardless. His father had ruffled his hair, offering him a sad smile and told him Slade’s mother would like the flowers._

_Some of the flowers died, or rather Slade just didn’t think they were growing anymore when they were barely a stem poking out of the ground and the flora around them was starting to open up towards the sun. The young Alpha disregarded his failings though, certain that he had to grow something for his mother. He just had to!_

_When the gladioli started to bud, revealing petals of red, pink, violet, yellow, and orange, Slade was ecstatic. His mother would love these, hopefully just as much as Slade loved his mother._

_Indoors however, Slade was more openly starting to wear his heart on his sleeve. Without his mother working, all three of them had to eat less to just even try to cover all their expenses but Slade was never really that hungry anyway. His stomach often felt like it was filled with dread, which ate away at everything else inside him._

_Giving his mother these flowers… This might just be one of the last things he ever does for his mother._

_Slade wipes away the wetness threatening to spill down onto his face from his tear ducts. He didn’t want to be sad anywhere near his mother, or in the house where she could potentially hear his sobs. Making his mum feel bad was the last thing Slade wanted, even if this really was all her fault. All her fault for doing this to him._

_One day in early August, Slade came home from school to find his gladiolus flowers in what he would consider to be full bloom. Each individual flower’s stem was at least two feet tall and the petals of the gladioli formed multiple different coloured funnel-shapes._

_If Slade continued to water them and just kept doing what he’d been doing, he’s sure he could keep these flowers alive for a while._

_Smiling to himself, his heart filled with expectation and excitement about what his mother would think of his gift, Slade decided that the day before his mother's birthday he’d arrange her a bouquet of flowers from what he had in the garden. Somewhere in the house, Slade would be able to find one of his mother’s old vases, which he could fill with water and place the flowers in._

_Then, on August 10th, when Slade came home from school, he could present his creation to his mother._

_Slade was ecstatic and over the coming days, he behaved himself in anticipation of his mother’s approval. He made sure not to get in any punch-ups at school, or rather not retaliate when he was verbally or physically abused. At home, Slade continued to do everything his father and mother asked of him—especially what she asked of him as she seemed particularly sickly and bedbound now._

_Things with his mum were really shitty, and his dad had to work more because of it, but Slade would have just been content for things to continue this way. Because at least things were familiar now to Slade, and he’d learnt how to become used to it in some aching, numbing sort of way._

_On August 5th, Slade bounded home from school, checked on his gladioli out in the garden, and then went about all his other chores bar making dinner._

_He’d do that later, after waking his mum and seeing what he could make her that she’d like._

_When Slade walked over to his parents shared room, he immediately noticed something really reeked around the area. It was like all those times that Slade and his parents had found rats in their home, seemingly the vermin finding their way in through every nook and cranny of their house. Rat shit smelt, but the odor around his parents room smelt more like a rat had died._

_Disregarding the likelihood that there vermin in their house again, Slade crept into his parents room and was unsurprised to find his mum asleep, still in bed._

_She usually was having a nap this time in the afternoon. Though Slade found his mother looked quite a sight, what with her mouth hanging open in her sleep and her skin looking more pale than yellow at the moment._

_Frankly, his mother looked worse asleep than she did conscious._

_As Slade expected, his mother didn’t stir when he entered the room so the young Alpha went to her bedside to rouse her._

_Reaching his hand out to give his mother a light shake awake, Slade noticed putting his palm on her forearm that she felt a bit cold. Immediately, Slade then gave his mother a shake to which she didn’t elicit any response at._

_Unease grew in Slade as he gave his mum a more violent jostle with both hands._

_Wasn’t one of the symptoms of end-stage liver failure that the affected person could go into a coma? Where they would maybe never wake up and would need machines to then feed them to keep them alive? Slade remembered his mum mentioning the term coma at one point, though he doesn’t remember in what context, and his breath hitched in his throat at the thought of it._

_Looking at his eerily still mother—who hadn’t even so much as opened her eyes at Slade half-manhandling her—Slade wondered if it was common for comatose people to breathe a lot less than normal people._

_Dread runs through Slade’s veins like ice as his face contorts with anxiety. Both of his hands were still on his mum’s arm as he just stared at her for a moment._

_His mum didn’t appear to be breathing at all, there was no steady rise and fall of her chest underneath the sheets covering her thin frame._

_Immediately Slade found himself wrenching the blankets back down over his mother’s hips, dropping his head upon her chest._

She’s gone into a coma, she’s gone into a fucking coma, _Slade’s mind screamed._

_What did he do, what did he do?!_

_As Slade laid his ear over his mother’s sternum, he waited to hear the lub-dub sound of her heartbeat that would hopefully ease his worries before he descended into panicking._

_Slade waited… and he waited._

_Still and focused, he could feel his own heart thumping away behind the back of his ribcage. But his ear heard no sound or felt no movement coming from his mum’s own heart._

_His mother didn’t have a pulse…_

_If she wasn’t breathing and her heart wasn’t beating, she couldn’t have been into a coma then..._

She’s just gone. _His mother was just gone._

_Slade thinks he screamed when he realised he was touching his mum’s dead body._

_He ran outside, not sure what to do or who to call. His dad likely wouldn’t be home for a few hours. Did Slade call the police to tell them there was a dead body in his house?_

_Tears welled up in the back of Slade’s eyes as he staggered outside. But it was his mum… his mum’s dead body._

_Wetness spilt down onto Slade’s face as a great sob wracked his body._

_Dropping down onto his knees in the dirt, Slade looked at the gladioli in full bloom that he had intended to give to his mother in five days for her birthday. They were such beautiful flora, a rainbow of colours with long stems that seemed to reach up towards the sky._

_Slade’s chest heaved just looking at the flowers and he couldn’t stop himself from wrapping his arms around his midsection. The young Alpha didn’t bother trying to contain his sobs, letting his tears rain down his cheeks as wails of pain left him._

_He was only fourteen, he would be fifteen in two months. His mum wasn’t supposed to leave him when he was this young. Parents weren’t supposed to die until you were an adult too, moved out, and you didn’t need them anyway._

_Slade still needed his mum, he wanted her to still be here._

She should still be alive…

_Pain gripped Slade’s heart as he bit into his bottom lip to want to keep himself from screaming._

_Why did his mum get Hepatitis C? Why did she get Cirrhosis? Why did she keep drinking even when her liver was failing? Why didn’t she seek treatment? Why did she have to die? Why didn’t she try to save her own life?_

_Why would his mother do this to him, why would she leave him?_

_So many ‘why’ and ‘what-if’ questions and scenarios ran through Slade’s head. None of it did anything to ease his grief though, if anything in only intensified the spite he felt for his mum._

_His mum who didn’t try to say her own life and left him without her._

_Slade screamed._

How could she?!

_The young Alpha’s hands wound around the gladiolus in front of him, gripping the stems and fraying the flower’s petals between his fingers. Then Slade yanked the gladiolus up out of the ground, throwing it as far away from him as he could. Parts of the stem and petals ripped beneath Slade’s force but the Alpha didn’t care._

_He wanted that to happen even._

_Getting to his feet, Slade ripped up the next bunch of flowers closest to him. He stomped on another lot of gladiolus with his shoe, crushing them beneath his heel. He hated these flowers,_ HATED THEM _, Slade seethed inwardly to himself. Even as tears streamed down his face, Slade somehow mustered up the anger within himself to keep ruining the gladioli._

_After Slade had destroyed most of the flowers, eventually he couldn’t even bring himself to want to keep wrecking them anymore. Very quickly, the rage brought on by the heartache inside of him dissipated, leaving only the grief within him there as that emotion consumed his psyche._

_Letting out a low whistle of air as Slade tried to control his breathing from wracking the rest of his body with its intensity, the young Alpha collapsed onto his haunches in front of some of the gladioli that had escaped his wrath._

_Slade still hated these bastard flowers though. They were supposed to be the perfect gift for his mother, a way that Slade could show her that his heart was pierced with love when he thought of his mother. But instead, looking at the gladiolus—looking at his dead mother’s body who he had intended said gladiolus for—pierced, no violently stabbed, Slade’s heart with agony._

_Despite that looking at the flora reminded Slade of grief—of failing his mother, of not being able to give them to her—for some reason the young Alpha couldn’t draw himself away from them._

_He stayed there even after the sky grew dark and you could hear bats screeching overhead until his father eventually came home._

_Time seemed to blur for Slade somewhere inbetween the death of his mother and the beginning of what would be the rest of his life._

_His father hid his grief well over the days proceeding up to Slade’s mother’s funeral. Or maybe Slade just didn’t notice his father’s own anguish, too wrapped up inside his own torment to notice anyone else’s._

_On the day of his mum’s funeral—the day she would truly leave him and enter the ground—Slade’s dad noticed the gladioli outside. The still intact flowers that Slade hadn’t watered for a couple days, not the mess Slade had made of the ones he destroyed (he’d cleaned that up)._

_Slade didn’t remember the comment his father had made about the flowers, but the young Alpha did remember shrugging his father off. Until his father told him that his mother would have appreciated the gladioli, that Slade could still give them to her._

_At the service for Sherry Wilson, Slade didn’t remember much more than his father finally breaking down and visibly crying in front of him. And the fact that before his mother’s coffin was closed, taking her away from Slade’s world completely, Slade had placed a bouquet of flowers in her coffin with her. A bouquet of flowers that Slade had assembled from the still living gladioli in their yard, made up of a variety of different colours—bright yellow, orange, red, pink, and violet._

_On the day they closed his mother’s coffin, Slade shut down, and it seemed his father did too._

_It was weird that even though Slade’s dad had given birth to him and raised Slade mostly alone for many years while his mum worked solely, Slade hated the idea of existing without his mum. His dad would never be able to make up for or replace her presence. She could be an asshole sometimes, getting up Slade sometimes for seemingly no reason, but she was still his mum. And Slade wasn’t supposed to live without his mum._

_After his mother’s death, Slade took to looking after himself. Not just because his father would have to continue to work alot to support them, but mainly because his dad was visibly a wreck as well. His father, who seemed to have been stricken by a great depression after his Bondmate’s death… Slade knew he wasn’t coping._

_So Slade decided that while his father worked to provide for the two of them, so too would Slade learn to cope and do what he could for both of them._

_Slade learnt to shoplift, little things mainly. Things like an apple from a market store, things that perhaps nobody would ever notice were gone, but things Slade knew would help himself and his father._

_When Slade got home from after school—and sometimes after going shopping or shoplifting—he would make dinner. Enough food for himself and his dad, and for leftovers._

_Every day—bar a few—Slade’s dad came home, showered and went to bed, then got up to go to work again, repeat. Slade always stayed up waiting for his dad to get home, tried to ensure his dad actually ate._

_The young Alpha thinks the spite he continued to harbour for his mother after her death, helped him cope with the loss of her. Or at least made that pain easier to deal with, as Slade had another emotion that he associated with her to distract him from his grief._

_Slade thinks this is the reason why he began to notice his father’s anguish more so than his own. His father just didn’t seem to be coping as well as Slade was._

_You always saw and heard about it in movies, the idea that when a Bondmate died, the still living Bondmate felt it… they felt something. Whether it was a sixth sense inkling that told them that their Bondmate had passed, or pain that the once-Bonded experienced similar to whatever their Bondmate felt when they died, the ideas and concepts had been around for a long time._

_Though who knew what truth movies held on the subject._

_Slade’s parents had never been married, maybe because of lack of money or caring on his mother’s part, but they had been Bonded. On his mother’s left wrist there’d been a bite mark etched into her skin that his father had no doubt left there. Wherever the Bonding mark on his father was, Slade didn’t think he wanted to know._

_One day—on a day that Slade’s dad had off work, and mostly stayed home and slept during that time—Slade approached his dad. His dad was sitting on the sofa, the TV in front of him switched off._

_Recently his dad didn’t do much of what he used to like to do, like going down to the beach to look at the creatures in the tidepools. Instead, Slade’s dad always seemed depressed._

_Slade wondered about that and out of the blue decided to ask his dad:_

_“Dad, when mum died… did you feel anything?”_

_At the time Slade’s dad had turned to look at him with a rather bewildered look on his face, shoulders slumped and hands steepled beneath his chin._

_His dad responded to him with, “Nothing… You feel and know nothing when your Bondmate dies, Slade. The same goes for me and your mother.”_

_Pain behind his father’s eyes betrayed the fact that answer was a lie though. But Slade continued to ask that question over the passing months, and his father continued to give him the same response on the matter—the same lie._

_Over time, Slade ended up getting in more trouble at school. Mainly because he’d just stopped giving a flying fuck about his education, or anything really for that matter. His and his father’s grief seemingly radiated into every aspect of the young Alpha’s life and it was easy for Slade to want to take out those built up emotions inside of him out on something, or someone, else._

_The schooling and strictness of the place Slade went to was shithouse, so not only did the Alpha get bullied far more than he thinks he could tolerate, but he also got away with doing far more shit than he otherwise thinks could have ended him up in juvenile court._

_Slade finally had a growth spurt and filled out in his mid-teens, which made bashing fuckwits and retaliating against said fuckwits a lot less draining on him. At school, Slade often got pulled up for—or rather mostly got away with—swearing, verbally abusing the hell out of other students and teachers alike,  wagging school, what would no doubt be considered assault, and bringing a concealed weapon to school (it was his mum’s old pocket knife)._

_There was also one time Slade accidently lit a bin on fire with a match from a box he’d pulled off an older boy’s person._

_If Slade had the money he’s pretty sure he would have been drinking and smoking like some other kids his age. It would have been a relief to be able to drown his brain and senses in alcohol or nicotine that would help him forget, or at least take away his pain temporarily._

_A greater part of Slade though was uneasy. Uneasy about the idea of smoking or drinking, at the idea that he would go like his mother did. That he would potentially kill his lungs or liver and not allow anyone else to help him._

_Maybe that was secretly what Slade wanted or deserved though. To go like his mother did and join her in death._

_Slade continued to ask his father if he experienced pain when Slade’s mother died. As expected, his dad continued to lie to him._

_When Slade was 16, he decided to join the Army Cadets. As a way to get himself away from just being at home or school, but more so as a way to get himself away from his father’s and his own grief._

_He needed some sort of outlet, a way out of his own life._

_For some reason, when Slade brought his father the paperwork that his legal guardian would have to sign for him, his father approved of Slade going into Cadets. After signing all the relevant paperwork, Slade’s dad even took him back down to the local Army Cadet Unit to finalise Slade joining up._

_On the days that Slade didn’t have school, and often after school, Cadets was gruelling, as Slade expected it to be. That in itself Slade was thankful for as it diverted his attention away from the pain brought on by his mother’s death._

_During the year that Slade was in Cadets, he learnt basic First Aid, how to live safely in a tent in the wilderness, how to navigate maps and compasses, and how to march like he was in the army._

_On the more fun side, during his time in Cadets, Slade got to abseil, go boating and canoeing, do obstacle courses and go on long hikes, and most fun… learn how to operate standard guns._

_Of course, when Slade turned 17 though, he was quickly kicked out of Cadets. Probably because once you were old enough to serve your country (even if the Defence Force wouldn’t actually send you out into the world until you were 18), it was that or fuck off back to where you came from._

_The latter was never in the equation in Slade’s mind, so he reluctantly (because the young Alpha didn’t quite expect his father to approve) went to his dad with his decision._

_Going into the Army would do away Slade’s need to look for another job, and possibly even housing for a time. It also would likely allow Slade to leave his shitty town and life behind which the young Alpha most definitely could get behind._

_The premature loss of his mother was still an open, gaping wound inside Slade, but he thinks it was at least starting to scab over now._

_At around 17, Slade had filled out physically more than he’d ever expected he would, but always hoped he would do so. From Cadet’s training and getting into fights over the years, Slade had started to put muscle on. Mainly in his arms and shoulders, the latter of which were starting to look broad, though Slade wasn’t what he would consider quintessential Alpha… yet._

_He wasn’t a shorty and as easy to bully anymore, however at 5’11” Slade would have appreciated a bit more height. His mother and father were never really that tall, as evidenced by the fact that when Slade went to talk to his dad, he stood a head above the Omega._

_Slade’s father barely looked at him with downcast eyes, but offered the young Alpha a smile as Slade told his dad of his decision. Although the Alpha wasn’t sure if his dad’s smile had been fake or not. He was essentially telling his father he wanted to leave, fly the coop, and Slade opposition to that._

_There wasn’t any though, which maybe Slade shouldn’t have been surprised at as his dad had always been more soft-spoken and lax than Slade’s mum was. His dad seemed to accept, or rather didn’t really care, if Slade wanted to leave school early. However, Slade did decide to wait the few extra weeks until he’d finished high school before deciding to go to the Army._

_Slade didn’t know why he waited until he finished his final year of schooling to leave for the Army. Maybe it was because he wanted to be merciful on his father and allow the Omega time to let him go on his own terms. However Slade expected that his dad had already let him go._

_After Slade had joined up to the Army but before he’d done anything in sorts of training, he decided to go to his father and ask him one last time:_

_“Dad, when mum died… did you feel anything?”_

_Although Slade wasn’t quite sure what answer he was expecting or looking for—perhaps the truth after all this time—, but he felt compelled to ask the question anyway._

_When Slade sat down one night with his dad on the couch, he asked the question gingerly though somewhat out of the blue. A long and great silence then lingered between him and his father._

_Slade’s father inhaled and exhaled deeply as he seemed to process the Alpha’s words. When Slade’s dad spoke, it was with a shaky voice and tears in his eyes._

_“I didn’t know what it was… the pain in my gut, my heart, radiating throughout my whole body. I felt it at work, and then as seemingly as it had come on, it was gone. She was gone. That pain was Sherry’s as her liver finally reached its limit and the rest of her body was so thoroughly poisoned by its failing. She was in pain, she died in pain. Maybe she even let go so she wasn’t in pain anymore._

_I should have been here for her. I wish you weren’t the one to find her. I should have known that my pain was her own. I should have known…_

_It was the worst thing in the world... Not knowing that she was gone when I had felt her go.”_

_It was at that point—after his mother had been put into the ground over two years ago—as Slade watched his father break down on the couch in tears, that he knew his dad would never be the same. Slade would never be the same. They could never go back to the same people they were when they were the poor, yet content family of three._

_The depression Slade’s dad suffered was by no means easing up, forgiving, or going away. He worked himself to the bone, perhaps so he’d spend less waking hours in the house that was once home to his Bondmate._

_Slade himself had, and would continue to grown into, a less-than-normal functioning young man. The friends he’d had in high school, he’d virtually pushed away. Same with the few Omegas and Betas he’d fallen into bed with._

_Pain from losing his mother coloured almost every aspect of Slade’s life. He wouldn’t—couldn’t even—form strong, meaningful, long-lasting connections with people because he was too afraid of those bonds being destroyed from the inside out. Not by himself, but by the other person. Someone he trusted but by allowing them that trust, Slade was allowing them to hurt him._

_Just like his mother had hurt him._

_So Slade kept people at arm’s length, so he could leave and possibly hurt them whenever he pleased, but they wouldn’t be able to do the same back to him. He wouldn’t let them._

_The one girlfriend Slade had that had slipped through his guard was a mistake. As an only child, Slade had never really learned to share, and that combined with the paranoia of the pain that would follow if he lost anyone else in his life, created a typical, almost stereotypical Alpha, possessiveness in Slade._

_Slade had been very reluctant to let that girl go, for her to leave his presence at all. Because when she went she could form another connections with people that would perhaps undermine her connection with Slade. She could choose to leave him, she could hurt him._

_He could not allow himself to be hurt and further broken, so Slade had dumped her and utterly broken her heart so that she would never come back._

_He didn’t want to be Bonded, or risk becoming Bonded to an Omega even if a pseudo-Bond could be broken. He didn’t want to lose anyone else._

_He didn’t want to become his father. Because Slade knew that his father would kill himself._

_And he did._

_For a long time, Slade waiting for the news of his father’s death. Of his suicide._

_At 17, Slade continued to live with his father as he went through the motions in the Army, mostly training both mental and physical. Coming home, Slade always expected the worst. Sometimes his dad wasn’t home before he was, but when his father was home, Slade always expected to find his dad dead. Or to at least have made an attempt on his own life._

_As far as Slade was aware, his father had never made an attempt to take his own life. For what reason, Slade didn’t know. Perhaps Slade’s dad felt guilty about the idea of Slade being the first person to find not just his dead mother but also his dead father._

_When Slade turned 18, he sort of officially moved out of home. The Army would finally start sending him on missions as he was legally an adult and that meant leaving home behind for Slade. It is all too easy for Slade to leave his shitty brick house where his mother died behind._

_It is harder however for Slade to leave his dad behind, but the Alpha knew there was nothing he could likely ever do or say to prevent his father’s death. He didn’t want to be there when it happened. He never wanted to return home._

_So for months, Slade waited. And he waited. Waited uneasily for the call of his father’s death._

_When Slade was 19 that day, that call, came. His father’s number was up._

_Someone—a police officer, Slade thinks—had been the one to ring Slade. Apparently someone from his dad’s work had come to the house to investigate when Slade’s dad had no-showed at work for several days in a row._

_Slade had wondered at the time who had been unfortunate enough at the time to find his father’s body._

_The officer hadn’t initially disclosed to Slade the details of his father’s death but Slade had asked about it over the phone, even when he knew it was a suicide. There had been no wounds or signs of physical trauma on his father, so the police were not able to identify if his father’s death had been by natural causes or not._

_They didn’t have to._

_Slade imagined if he had returned to his childhood home, he might have found his mother’s bottle of pain medication—oxycodone—missing, or perhaps empty of all its contents. An overdose seemed like something his father would do, less violent a death then something like hanging himself._

_However, Slade never did return home or further investigate the details of his father’s death. He didn’t need to. Nor did he need to attend his father’s funeral—being over in a different country was a good enough excuse for ‘why not’ at least._

_First his mother, and now his father had abandoned him. The people who were supposed to protect and raise him in life, had been the first ones to betray him. And for that, Slade despised his parents._

_Slade could never allow himself to be hurt again, because inside it had already destroyed him._  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So… that flashback turned out longer than anticipated.
> 
> I’d like to thank user _MyLittleAngel_ though from Archive Of Our Own for commenting on the last chapter about the matter of Slade sending Oliver the gladiolus. Initially, I didn’t intend to do anything with the fact that the gladiolus are the August birth flower but _MyLittleAngel_ bringing the subject up made me want to tie the gladiolus in to this pre-planned flashback.
> 
> I also changed my _Tumblr_ url again, but I’m back at _sladiver_ now considering the big burst of muse I had for writing this chapter.
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and next chapter, back to present day.


	15. Bonding Experiences

_“And I am your future, I am your past_  
 _Never forget that we were built to last”_  
You Me At Six ~ Take On The World

xxxxxxxx

Slade is staring at Oliver, or more precisely through him, the Omega notices. Mentally Oliver kicks himself after Slade has remained blankly staring into space for several moments too many.

His Alpha seemed to do this way too much, sort of vacate his body and recede into himself. And it always seemed to be because of something stupid Oliver had said or done.

A sigh leaves Oliver.

He didn’t like how the subject of Slade’s parents deaths’ had suddenly caused the Alpha to go dormant. That wound in Slade was clearly still open and Oliver wished he had never involuntarily brushed over it.

The roses on Oliver’s lap lay forgotten there as he focused on Slade who continued to stare blankly into nothingness.

Slade’s hands around Oliver’s own had loosened enough to the point where Oliver could easily remove his palms from the Alpha’s. Doing so, Oliver re-encompassed Slade hands within his own, giving them a reassuring stroke and a tight squeeze.

As Oliver solemnly expected and was further uneased by, Slade elicited no stimulus from the Omega solely touching him.

_Come back to me Slade, come back to me_ , Oliver thought to himself before he got another idea on how to coax Slade out of his shell. Unfortunately, though somewhat fortunately, Oliver thinks he was becoming used to Slade entering these trance-like states and the Omega accordingly had some experience in how to deal with them.

Oliver lays his head on Slade’s shoulder, nudging himself into the side of the Alpha’s neck. Gingerly, Oliver nuzzled his neck over Slade’s own, hoping to rub his scent onto the Alpha. Hoping that his scent would assure Slade that things were alright and bring the Alpha back to him.

With his arms, knee, and head touching Slade’s body, Oliver was as close to Slade as could be without climbing into the Alpha’s lap.

A moment of silence passes between them, and then another during which Oliver keeps caressing his Alpha and is pressed up beside him while said Alpha remained mostly stiff and lifeless.

Then Slade tenses up, his hands flexing beneath Oliver’s and his shoulder stiffening to which the Omega feels with his head still placed there. Slade sharply inhales through his nose and Oliver just keeps rubbing his body over Slade’s, waiting for the Alpha to come back to him and show some indication that he was ready to talk.

As Slade’s senses returned to him, he was once again aware that he was in a courtyard of the Queen property. His eyes were unfocused, staring at a dark blue blur beside him, which he was assuming was Oliver based off the weight on his shoulder and the warmth over his hands.

Blinking, Slade noticed his eyes stung as the world around him remained a haze of greens and blues. He hadn’t been crying, his eyes were just dry.

After a moment Slade was able to mentally process what it was that caused him to so vividly remember his mother’s death, his father’s suicide, and his own younger self’s pain and misery.

_It was the fucking gladiolus again_ , Slade grimaced. Or at least the thought of them and their implication that had torn Slade’s heart open once more. Ever since his mother’s death, Slade had hated those flowers with a passion. ‘Couldn’t stand the sight of them either as they reminded him only of grief

The Alpha could hear and feel himself breathing heavily as his body remained rigid, the world around him still not quite apparent.

Perfumed vanilla tickled the insides of Slade’s nostrils and the Alpha’s mind was quick to associate it _with safe, my Omega, Oliver…_

Slade brushes his nose over what he thinks is Oliver’s head, fine hair caressing back over the Alpha’s cheek.  Burying his nose into Oliver’s scalp, Slade steadily begins to inhale and exhale through his nose as his mind and the world around him came back into focus.

An ache of pain still resided in Slade’s chest, but it was numbing fast.

He didn’t hate the gladiolus anymore though they still definitely upset him. Yet now Slade had something else to associate the flowers with that was right beside him. _Oliver…_ Oliver whom he’d decided to give a bouquet of gladioli to because they were indeed beautiful flowers and Slade truly believed in their underlying meaning.

That Oliver had unexpectedly slipped through his guard, piercing his heart, and caused Slade to feel something that he hadn’t felt in a long time. Love… Giving Oliver the gladiolus was an almost cathartic process for Slade, it helped remove some of the dread in Slade’s mind that he associated with the flowers.

Oliver ebbed that pain away in him.

Briefly, Slade wonders to himself what his mother ever would have thought of him essentially courting an Omega with flowers? Before the Alpha then turned his attention to Oliver who he could finally see properly, the Omega leaning his head on his shoulder.

Looking down, Slade realised that Oliver’s hands were covering his own. He rubbed his thumbs over the Omega’s pinkie fingers that were slotted in between his hands.

Beside him, Oliver must immediately notice this as the Omega lifts his head up off of Slade’s shoulder to meet the Alpha’s eyes.

Attentive blue eyes stared back at Slade and Oliver's mouth was a thin line of concern.

Slade smiled softly—though wasn’t quite sure if it reached his eyes—as he pressed his thumbs firmly over Oliver’s hands. Inside he was still shaken, however he didn’t need Oliver to see that.

“Thanks kid. I needed that,” Slade said, breaking the lingering silence that had fallen over them.

The Omega’s lips curled up at the sides.

“And I’m always here to give it,” Oliver assured.

There was something in Slade’s eyes—something that his semi-forced smile couldn’t entirely mask, Oliver figured it might have been unease—that made Oliver think his Alpha needed the reassurance. Crow’s feet and laugh lines were visible on Slade’s tight face.

To Oliver, his Alpha’s facial expression made him think Slade was almost like begging him not to go anywhere. But... go where? Why would Oliver go anywhere?

Wheels began to turn in Oliver’s head as he raised a brow slightly at the hidden emotion shrouding Slade’s dark eyes.

Slade knows he’s just being paranoid and thinking too much but it was hard for the Alpha not to when such unpleasant memories had just been wrenched to the forefront of his mind. He is older now than his parents ever were. And just like he had done immediately after they’d died, for over the last two decades he’d been subtly withdrawn, fearing commitment, fearing connections, and above all, fearing betrayal.

Although, in the end, maybe it was he himself who destroyed all his relationships from the inside out.

His longest ‘romantic’ relationship had lasted three years, though maybe that didn’t count as Slade wasn’t always around during those three years. Her name was Adeline Kane, a Beta from America who worked and specialised in guerrilla warfare tactics. It was during Slade’s time in Iraq that they first met.

The year was 2003 and he and Adeline just  happened to be in the same place at the same time. Adeline was in the Middle East with U.S. soldiers hoping to quell the guerrilla attacks against them. While Slade was in the area on a mission from ASIS to retrieve and extract information from a Beta who was believed to have current connections to human trafficking occurrences in America.

Unfortunately, Slade wasn’t quite able to slip past the ongoing warfare in Iraq and ended up getting shot by a sniper in the back of his right thigh. The only reason he was likely still alive to this day was because the U.S. soldiers on the scene ensured Slade only got one bullet in him that day (they also didn’t decide to put any in him).

Adeline was the main person Slade remembered beside him as she administered first aid on his leg. Apparently, Slade’s femoral artery had been nicked and the bullet still occupying his thigh—the hole it had left in him—was the only thing keeping the artery from pissing out blood. Slade not having died swiftly from blood loss was a one-in-a-million miracle.

Still in Iraq, Slade had surgery and his artery was patched up by the military’s nurses before Adeline ensured he was flown back to Washington for a brief hospitalisation period.

Slade never expected to see her again, but on the day the Alpha was just about ready to discharge himself, Adeline Kane appeared in his hospital room. She was likeable, yeah, she was a Beta, less complicated and _safer_ by Slade’s standards. Betas didn’t go into heat and couldn’t form Bonds, which was exactly what Slade liked in a partner.

Maybe it was the fact that she reminded him of his mother that attracted Slade to her—meaning she was a narky bitch. That had been comforting to Slade. She was safe, familiar, and easy to lose himself in when he buried himself between her legs.

Injury—and the matter that ASIS didn’t want him back until said injury was healed—kept Slade in the U.S. with Adeline in her hometown of Washington as they sort of fell into each other’s lives. They started to date, which was easy enough considering Adeline let him crash at her place while he was in town.

No matter what, they both knew Slade was going to have to leave though. Duty pulled him away back to ASIS after several weeks.

Adeline was reluctant to say goodbye to him but they kept in touch. Jobs sent Slade back to the U.S. for long, extended periods of time and he and Adeline found ways to see one another around that. Her jobs kept her involved in America’s warfare affairs and Slade often knew where to find her over the months.

They were both in their early thirties, around about the point where people were expected to have settled down in life or have been seriously considering it. So maybe it shouldn’t have surprised Slade when Adeline started talking about their respective jobs, the opportunities for travel and moving. Or rather, she was talking about the opposite—the lack thereof travel.

She was talking about them settling down, of them not seeing each other with these long weeks in between. Of them seeing each other _permanently_.

Slade knew then that it was a _no_ , that they weren’t going to work out, though of course the Alpha didn’t tell Adeline any of that at the time. Casual sex and breaking a bottle of wine open for dinner together was all great, but anything much more than that made Slade anxious.

Warfare and the like had been all Slade had known for such a long time. Change scared him, settling down was restrictive, and Adeline could always one day hurt him—leave him just like his parents did. He wasn’t prepared to give up his life and put down roots in America for her.

Things very quickly became strained between Slade and Adeline when he wouldn’t even so much as indulge her idea of them settling down. There was no chance of Slade leaving ASIS. He would continue to go where his jobs took him and that meant his stints in America could cease indefinitely at any time.

Expectedly, Adeline had been furious with him. That after all the time they’d spent together and the things they’d been through, Slade didn’t love or care for her enough to want to stay with her indefinitely. She hated that Slade wouldn’t settle down.

It had never been a case of whether Slade cared for her or not. Slade appreciated her presence, the mental support she provided him, the rapport they had built together, and knowing that she would be there whenever Slade returned to America.

However, the Alpha didn’t love her unconditionally. He wasn’t prepared to make sacrifices on her behalf.

There was a saying that everyone was going to hurt you and you just had to find the ones worth suffering for. Which was complete bullshit, because Slade wasn’t prepared to suffer for anyone else. People oughta just learn not to hurt him, not to fuck with him.

Even after a heated argument regarding Slade’s refusal to settle down, the Alpha and Adeline continued to see one another for several months. Though Slade was swiftly pulled away from her and into Europe on a mission.

During the period of time that his and Adeline’s relationship was clearly crumbling but they were just refusing to further address it, Slade imagines she might have been sleeping around. Slade knows he was, because what further impact could it have possibly had on their already broken relationship?

On what would be one of Slade’s final ASIS mission-based trips to the United States, Adeline told him that she didn’t want to see him anymore. Apparently he was a prick and the Beta had waited for months for him to step up to the plate. She didn’t want to wait any longer when he would clearly never come round.

Adeline leaving him—or rather, dumping him—was expected and Slade had long since come to terms with it before it happened. So her departure from his life was far less painful than that of his parents’ betrayals of him.

Within several weeks of his relationship with Adeline ending, Slade was re-focused and committed on missions for ASIS. He would undertake a mission in 2006 to the hostile island of Lian Yu to attempt to rescue a Chinese military general by the name of Yao Fei.

It would be the longest mission Slade would ever undertake, the one’s failure that would linger with him the longest, and the one mission that would end up hurting Slade the most.

Slade scowls, immediately reminded of his ex-partner. Of his betrayal.

Oliver notices the change in Slade’s facial expression—the irritation—to which he wants to frown at. His Alpha clearly still had things on his mind. In a moment, Oliver would want to attempt to distract Slade from whatever it was that he’s dwelling on.

The longest lasting relationship Slade ever had was with a fellow Alpha by the name of Billy Wintergreen. They met in both of their first years of active duty for the Australian military and they likely stayed friends because of their shared passion for their profession.

In the military, they would get put on the same teams for many field operations, before they would both move onto ASIS and work together as partners almost continually.

Billy was very trustworthy and skilled at covering his back, and Slade looked after Billy’s hide accordingly. Considering Billy had been a good friend to him for over 15 years, it had never occurred to Slade that the other Alpha might betray him. But when the chips were down, people showed their true colours. And Billy’s revealed that he was a prick.

Maybe Slade had allowed himself to get too familiar with Billy, thus allowing himself to get hurt, but it was kinda hard fuckin’ not to want to feel secure with someone you literally had to trust with your life.

When Slade refocused his gaze on Oliver it was with dark, vigilant eyes.

His Omega stares back at him and Slade thinks Oliver must see _it_ in him. Or at the very least be aware of it.

Slade never wanted to leave Oliver, and he expected his Omega would extend him the same courtesy in not _leaving_ him. He loved Oliver, and because of that, he was willing to kill for Oliver—had done so and would continue to do so as necessary.

Cocking his head to one side, Oliver again thinks that the look in Slade’s eyes implied that the Alpha never wanted him to go anywhere. Underneath Slade’s gaze, he felt a bit like an antelope in the sights of a tiger. Meaning that once the tiger got him, it would indeed never let him go.

That almost possessive, but simultaneously protective vibe  that radiated off of Slade reminded the Omega of his Alpha’s former words.

_“No, I wanted to do something about you and I… us. ‘Give yah something, show yah that I’m here to stay. And I hope you understand what I mean from those flowers I’ve been sending yah.”  
_

It dawned on Oliver that although his Alpha didn’t show it, Slade was scared of losing him. Of him leaving.

Really, it all made sense now.

At probably a young age, Slade had lost his parents, and accordingly likely became very attached to the people that became a constant part of his life.

Through the language of flowers, Slade had bared his soul to Oliver. And it turned out, that they appeared to feel the same way about one another. Love… they both loved one another.

Oliver had only ever ‘left’ Slade on Lian Yu because he was almost morbidly certain within himself that he’d killed the Alpha. But now that he and Slade were together, with no one but themselves to drag them apart, Oliver thinks he was content to have the Alpha in his life for the indefinite future.

_I’m not going anywhere, Slade._

Slade’s dark eyes and dark skin combined made his expression hard to read however, so Oliver couldn’t be sure what it was exactly that Slade was feeling at the moment.

Just in case Slade was still lamenting over the subject of his parents’ deaths, Oliver decided to change the subject. He wasn’t sure about telling Slade that he didn’t intend to voluntarily leave the Alpha anytime soon, as Oliver also didn’t want to unintentionally give Slade’s mind any other reminds of grief and his parents’ deaths.

No, instead Oliver just let the first thing on his mind—that he didn’t think could cause Slade some kind of mental anguish—spill out into his words.

“So… are you an Aboriginal or half-caste?” Oliver asks, breaking the silence that had fallen over them once more.

Almost instantly, Slade recoiled his head back slightly and raised his brows at Oliver. Before then furrowing said brows with a straight look on his face.

“Are you saying that because I’m brown, kid?” Slade states bluntly, eyes narrowing at the Omega’s question.

Involuntarily dropping open his mouth slightly, Oliver ponders the reasoning behind what he’d just said. _Yes_ , it was because Slade looked somewhat dark and was from Australia that Oliver might have _assumed_ the Alpha was a native Australian.

But Oliver didn’t get a chance to defend his words before Slade squeezing his thumbs over the Omega’s pinkies redrew Oliver’s attention.

As Oliver refound Slade’s gaze the Alpha grinned, leaning inwards towards the Omega so their breaths could ghost over one another’s face.

“I should smack your dumbass for that one.”

A wry smile tugged at Oliver’s lips as he closed the gap between himself and Slade, pressing his nose and forehead up against his Alpha’s.

The bruise Slade had left on his cheek Friday night had finally healed. Hence Oliver was no longer anxious about being this close to his Alpha and having the older man possibly notice the mark on his face hidden beneath concealer.

“So… you’re not an Aboriginal?” Oliver murmured lowly.

Without really thinking about it, Oliver found himself craning his head forward until Slade’s lips molded over his own. It was just a quick peck as the Alpha drew himself back so that his nose was just nuzzling over Oliver’s once more, but these simple actions seemed to be getting so much easier for Slade and Oliver to perform.

Ocean blue eyes stared back at dark midnight ones.

“No,” Slade responded quietly with a slight shake of his head still pressed up against Oliver’s.

“My mum was an Aussie, and by that I don’t mean an Aboriginal. My dad was the native—native New Zealander, Maori. He was a full Kiwi.”

Oliver smiled, caressing his hands over Slade’s before the Alpha then maneuvered their fingers so they were all interlocking together.

He doesn’t ask (because he’d probably look stupid), but Oliver’s assuming that means Slade gets his complexion from his dad’s side.

Slade straightens up, reseating his back against the bench behind them.

“So…” Slade starts, gruffness creeping back into his voice.

“You talk to your mum about Isabel yet?”

As Oliver shook his head, Slade’s face tightened with furrowed brows. The Alpha let out a huff of air as he averted his eyes from Oliver.

“I’ll talk to her, Slade,” Oliver tries to reassure, clasping his hands tightly over Slade’s.

_You don’t have to tell me anything._

There was no doubt in Oliver’s mind that Slade was possibly dreading what he would learn about Isabel from his mother. How it would potentially affect their relationship. But Oliver wasn’t worried about the latter, he and Slade were past that now.

“Once your back’s healed we’ll go to Queen Consolidated’s Applied Sciences Division and destroy the rest of the Mirakuru,” Oliver states matter-of-factly.

When Slade nods his understanding, some of the solemness seems to ebb from his demeanor, to Oliver’s satisfaction. The Omega’s face was quickly engulfed in a bright, beaming smile.

“And you can continue to shadow me every night as you please, as soon as you can mobilise without looking like an old man.”

Slade growls lowly, exposing teeth as his hands tightened over Oliver’s and he leaned back in close to the Omega.

“I still want some of your nights to myself though. ‘Can’t ask me to share you all the time with the rest of the city,” Slade practically purred, the words rolling off his tongue.

A panging sensation briefly grips Oliver’s heart. Perhaps because he _didn’t_ allot much time to Slade, or perhaps because the Alpha did want that personal time between them.

The Omega let out a low whistle of air as Slade’s eyes remained fixated on him.

“I suppose I can agree to that—a few nights a week—so long as nothing serious comes up, like Shrapnel last week. Otherwise, you’ll just have to come out on the streets with me,” Oliver affirmed.

Slade growls in a seemingly pleased way, quirking his eyebrows up at Oliver.

“Well… As a matter of fact, I want you today,” Slade smirked, tightening his hands around Oliver’s almost roughly.

Embarrassment flushed through Oliver as the Omega instantly became aware of his heart thumping away in his chest. His Alpha just couldn't say he _wanted_ him, regardless of what context the statement might have been in.

Oliver shook his head, slightly averting his gaze from Slade when he spoke.

“You pulled me out of the house without any Beta cologne on. I don’t think so,” Oliver answered in a jovial tone, but he was also pretty adamant in not wanting to walk down the street without any scent concealment on.

A laugh leaves Slade, before the Alpha re-brushes his nose over the side of the Omega’s.

“I’ll stop by a pharmacy and buy your Beta crap, if that’s what it takes to get a day alone with you.”

Warmth burned behind Oliver’s cheeks and his stomach tied itself in knots at Slade’s words. His Alpha was so willing to compromise, Oliver noticed. He really like… loved him, didn’t he?

They both felt the same way about one another, and for that reason, Oliver should be willing to compromise as well.

Gingerly, Oliver shakes his head before re-finding his Alpha’s eyes.

“No. It’s fine. If we swing by Verdant, I’ve got Beta sprays there. ‘We may as well go there too, so I can drop these flowers off,” Oliver responded, flicking his eyes down and over the roses still in his lap.

Slade promptly springs to his feet, hands still entangled with Oliver’s. Only a slight grunt of pain left the Alpha as he stood, but the grin on Slade’s face quickly masked the sound.

“May I steal you now then?” Slade asked, anticipation burning behind his wide eyes.

Oliver nodded as Slade swiftly pulled him up onto his feet.

xxxxxxxx

Sometime after night has fallen, Oliver is dropped off back at home with a kiss goodnight and a goodbye from Slade. It wasn’t until after Slade’s Lamborghini had peeled away from the curb and disappeared off into the night that Oliver found himself able to move from being rooted to the spot and trek up the driveway to the Queen Mansion’s iron fence.

A slight chill in the air quickly began to nip at Oliver’s neck and cheeks, though it wasn’t enough to dispel the smile from his face. Nor that sense of contentment in his soul that made him feel almost giddy with extra energy.

He and Slade had spent a whole day together. And more importantly, today he and his Alpha had spent a whole day together by choice, but also without any qualms, arguments, or anything resembling grief coming up between them.

All of which made Oliver think that nothing really important had been left unspoken between himself and Slade. Everything was out there in the open, and with that Oliver found it so much easier to enjoy Slade’s presence—or rather, lose his wits about himself just looking at the older man.

Lost in his own thoughts about Slade, Oliver only just noticed Diggle watching him from outside the front gate as he flicked his gaze over the man. Oliver promptly halts in his tracks, the smile on his face slightly lessening.

Despite the illusion his mother might have believed, that _Beta_ Oliver Queen needed ex-military Alpha John Diggle to chaperone him around and act as his bodyguard, regardless of that, Dig was still quite observant on his own merits.

This morning, Dig had probably observed his departure as the Alpha had been the one to text him of Slade’s arrival in the first place. Beneath Verdant, Dig probably noticed his absence today from there—though a bouquet of roses had appeared in the Foundry—, the Alpha likely returning back to the Queen property in the evening hours, awaiting Oliver’s safe return home.

Dig was a pretty good guy like that, giving Oliver plenty of space, yet also appearing to do his job as the Omega’s bodyguard enough to not warrant Moira harping onto Oliver about slipping his bodyguard’s protection.

After a moment, Oliver closes the gap between himself and Dig, smile re-encompassing his face.

The Alpha gives Oliver a nod at his arrival.

“Not like you to go out all day and enjoy yourself,”  Dig marvels.

At the Alpha’s statement, Oliver felt a bit hot and tight in the chest. Even though Dig was practically his closest friend, the Alpha’s words still made Oliver feel like he was being scrutinised. Quickly, Oliver thought of a response to Dig.

“Well, Slade’s back’s healed up enough to the point where he can walk seemingly normally, so he… decided to just show up,” Oliver explains, his lips tugging upwards at the sides from where they’d previously formed a thin line.

Diggle inclines his head towards Oliver as if to say _go on_.

Letting out a sigh, the Omega offered Diggle a slight shake of his head.

“As soon as possible, Slade and I will go to Queen Consolidated’s Applied Sciences division and destroy the Mirakuru there. And then, that should be the end of that.”

A _hmm_ sound left Dig as the Alpha raised a brow at Oliver, cocking his head to one side.

“I was actually more asking about how you and Slade were… how your day was?” Dig clarifies.

Warmth seared through Oliver’s body, particularly his heart, at the reminder of his day out with Slade.

How could he describe his day?

After he and Slade had swung past Verdant—Oliver dropping off his roses there and dampening his natural scent—, his Alpha had just proceeded to drive. To where, Oliver still wasn’t exactly sure, but the journey took over two hours and had them leaving Starling City. Not that Oliver really noticed the long drive.

He and his Alpha had just talked constantly while Slade drove them out of the city, onto a highway that connected up with nearby cities. The amount of leg-room and head-space Oliver had in Slade’s Lamborghini was a bit crampy, but the Omega managed to tolerate it as he and his Alpha just conversed continually about this and that.

Slade’s father was Maori and accordingly the Alpha knew how to speak small amounts of his father’s mother tongue. Whereas, Oliver was fluent mainly in both Chinese and Russian, though the Omega wasn’t keen to share with his Alpha under what circumstances he’d come to learn the latter.

Luckily for the Omega, neither Slade nor him seemed to lament over or discuss much of their past as they talked. They talked about their interests, what they both liked to do in their spare time. For Oliver this consisted of a lot of working out to keep himself in shape. Slade did a lot of the same, mostly weights. Though Slade did reveal to the Omega that not only did he have a proper house on the outskirts of Starling City, but the Alpha liked to go there to garden and clean up the yard.

Apparently the former soothed Slade down, yet Oliver was less appalled by his Alpha gardening and doing DIY than the fact that Slade had a house on several acres. Albeit it didn’t seem like to Oliver that Slade vacated the house or had furnished it at all. Still, Oliver wasn’t oblivious to the idea of where Slade’s wealth—or rather blood money—had come from.

The Omega didn’t mention his suspicions to Slade, knowing his Alpha likely was horrified with his own past actions as it was.

Rather than Slade driving Oliver to his house, the Alpha instead drove them to a small town west of Starling. Where Slade and Oliver then proceeded to potter around for the rest of the day, not knowing where anything was. Because it was a far smaller place than Starling, Oliver Queen was hardly a known face, so he and his Alpha proceeded about their day unharassed.

Together, he and Slade held hands and walked along a vacant beach coastline, as it was still far to cold to swim. They went to the movies and saw some war film based on a true story. Though whose idea that was and why, Oliver doesn’t recall as explosions (even fake ones) mainly distressed him, bringing back bad memories. He remembered eventually putting the arm of the chair up between himself and Slade so that he could wrap himself around his Alpha’s arm.

His Alpha hadn’t commented on that, Slade merely carrassing his fingers back over Oliver. At one point, Slade had entangled his fingers into Oliver’s hair, whispering soothing sounds into the Omega’s ear until the violence and explosions on the silver screen had ceased.

After that, Slade and Oliver got lunch at a steakhouse where they both proceeded to start drinking at two in the afternoon. Oliver didn’t get himself that tipsy though, as evidenced by the fact that when he and Slade made their way to an indoor ice skating rink, the Omega proved he still knew how to skate. It was something Oliver had learned to do in high school, a skill he found impressed Omegas and Betas, hence why he found indoor skate rinks to be a great location for first dates.

Growing up in Australia, Slade clearly had little experience with ice, which showed when the Alpha continually latched onto Oliver’s hand and complained the entire time they were on the ice. However, Slade did fall over _once_ , which highly amused Oliver. His Alpha had berated him for being a pansy Omega with some pansy ice skating skill, before attempting to drag Oliver out of the place.

Slade also payed for _everything_ —refusing to let Oliver do any of it—during the day.

A moment passes before Oliver realises he’s been caught up in his own thoughts and Dig was still looking back at him, awaiting a response. Oliver opens his mouth to say something, but then closes it.

Butterflies flapped about in his stomach and Oliver’s cheeks felt warm. It was like he almost felt embarrassed… about Dig enquiring about how his day—and to an extent, his relationship—with Slade was. But Oliver knew he shouldn’t be. His friends had accepted that he and Slade were Bonded.

Everything between himself, Slade, Diggle, and Felicity was good. And how had his day out with Slade been, to answer Dig’s former question?

“Good,” Oliver simply says after a pause.

A smile broke out over Oliver’s face as the Omega could feel his shoulders slump back down where they should be.

Dig nods at the Omega’s words, returning Oliver’s grin.

“Slade seems like a good guy.”

A surge of happiness rushed through Oliver at Dig positively acknowledging his relationship with Slade. He felt like he was on cloud nine with this sense of lightness in his soul.

“He is,” Oliver affirms.

Slade may just be the best man and Alpha Oliver knew. Though that might have also had something to do with the amount of times Slade had risked his life for him.

“So, you gonna bring Slade around Verdant more often?” Dig asks.

Oliver makes a scoffing sound, moving past Dig and towards the gate of the Queen property.

“I don’t have to. Slade just lets himself in.”

xxxxxxxx

When Oliver enters the Queen mansion, the first thing he notices is his mother’s scent—light and airy as it was—lingering in the area around the foyer. Which also just so happened to sully Oliver’s mood, dread once more creeping up to the forefront of his mind.

He is reminded of what Slade told him both today and the other night:

_“Your mother. Talk to your mother about Isabel.”_

Although Oliver was sure he could live without the knowledge of why Isabel wanted to usurp his father’s company out from his control, the fact that his mother knew something about the situation that she clearly hadn’t sought to share plagued Oliver’s brain.

Since she’d been on trial for her relationship with Malcolm Merlyn and the deaths of five-hundred-and-three people in the Glades, Oliver’s relationship with Moira had been somewhat strained and only half-smoothed over. And still, Oliver wasn’t sure what he believed regarding his mother’s involvement with the Undertaking.

Allegedly, his mother had only ever been compliant with Malcolm’s Undertaking to protect him and Thea, but it’s not as if he and Thea ever got anything more than their mother’s cliff notes on the subject.

His perception of his mum—of what she had done and what she was capable of doing—was just one of the many reasons Oliver had upped and left Starling City after the Undertaking.

Moira was the only living parent he had left, and Oliver loved her as family, but as a person his mother made him somewhat uneasy. She was clearly cutthroat, as dangerous an Omega as she appeared to be a meek and mild one.

_Somewhat like yourself_ , Oliver’s mind offered to which the Omega shook his head at.

He had patched up a fairly dire situation between himself and Slade, so hearing his mother talk about Isabel—someone that Moira had clearly been aware of for a while before she showed up at Queen Consolidated—should be relatively painless in comparison.

For a moment, a decision weighed on Oliver’s mind that he thought he should perhaps abandon for another day. Before the Omega then decided he’d just rather get any proverbial gut punchs that might occur out of the way sooner, rather than later.

Moving from where he’d been previously rooted to the spot, Oliver followed his mother’s scent to a nearby parlour.

As long as Thea wasn’t around, he’d test the waters with his mother.

Moira was seated in the living room on a leather lounge, a book in hand as Oliver approached her from behind. She must be able to smell his indistinct _Beta_ scent as Moira swivelled her head around to meet him.

“Oliver,” Moira chimed, flicking her gaze over her shoulder to meet his own.

“Hi mom,” Oliver responded, only turning his lips upward slightly at her.

Which was a noticeable contrast to his mother’s soft smile and raised brows.

If Oliver succeeded in prying information out of his mother, he knew whatever he found out likely wasn’t going to comfort him. He was simultaneously dreading what his mother was going to say but also knew that he had to hear it. Hence, Oliver couldn’t bring himself to be overly upbeat at the moment.

His mother’s eyes were still fixed on him. At that moment, Oliver made a muffled sound, deciding to clear his throat.

“Mom, can we talk?” Oliver asks, slightly cocking his head to one side and allowing some of the solemnness in his thoughts to creep into the softness of his voice.

“Of course, Oliver. About what?” his mother chirps back, the book in her hand snapping shut as she placed it out of Oliver’s sight.

Mentally Oliver sighed at the airiness of his mother’s voice. _Mom always was one to play the diplomat, even after getting off trial for murder._

Either Moira’s not expecting the bombshell Oliver’s about to drop on her or was consciously trying to weaken him with her soft words into just not bringing it up. Oliver wouldn’t put the latter past his mother’s silver tongue, hence why he had to drop this bombshell on her.

“About Isabel Rochev,” Oliver states deflated after a moment, catching his mother’s gaze in a stare.

Her mouth drops open slightly, Moira immediately breaking Oliver’s stare as she leveled her eyes diagonal of him.

She pats part of the couch beside her.

“Come, sit.”

Moira flicks her head back around to facing forward, seemingly not waiting to see if Oliver will follow her words.

Promptly Oliver finds himself  plonking down on the couch beside his mother, but he lets her continue to avoid his gaze.

A hand brushes over Oliver’s own before the Omega sees Moira clasp her hands together in her lap out of the corner of his eye.

“Might I ask why you’re coming to me for this conversation if you already know what you’re expecting to hear from me?” Moira enquires.

Oliver shakes his head despite his mother not looking his way.

“Because I don’t know anything,” the Omega states flatly, “Aside from the fact that we need to have this conversation.”

Other than the fact that this all came back to Isabel wanting his father’s company, Oliver didn’t actually know what sort of information he was supposed to garner from his mother.

Moira then finally turned Oliver’s way and the Omega saw the look of confusion on her face. Meeting her gaze, Oliver let out a sigh.

“Isabel… didn’t tell me anything. But you told me that she was dangerous and not to trust her. I know there’s an underlying reason that you must know for why she’s so vigilant in wanting to take over dad’s company. So tell me why.”

_Otherwise I’ll just have to hear it from Slade,_ Oliver’s mind promptly followed up with.

Silence settled over them as Moira opened her mouth and then quickly shut it. The former made Oliver think he’d rattled his mother. There was a reasonable chance that she’d attempt to brush him off now and attempt to slink away from him.

She was almost just like him when it came to keeping a lid on secrets. Like mother, like son.

For some reason, Moira didn’t attempt to avoid his question though when she next opened her mouth to speak.

“This may seem irrelevant but…,” Moira starts, twisting her hands together in her lap.

“Your father and I thought we weren’t going to have any more children after you. It became apparent over the years that either one or both of us were experiencing infertility issues. We spent a lot of time and money looking into treatments, and it was eventually discovered that your father was the one with the complications.

This… greatly bothered your father—and to a lesser extent, myself—for a number of reasons and we were both unhappy with various matters.”

Immediately Oliver has to wonder where this was going. What this had to do with Isabel Rochev. Though maybe if his dad did have infertility issues that might have explained away some of the emotional abuse Oliver felt his father dealt his teenage self. His father being stuck with a dam—someone who could only bear children—, instead of a sire for a son.

From Oliver’s understanding, most old-fashioned, upper-class, exclusively Alpha-Omega bloodlines and families—like his own—, the parents were usually concerned with heirs, and Alpha ones at that. Someone to carry their family’s name through wedlock and onto the next generation as traditionally the Omegas and Beta females were the ones to change their names.

Yet… when Oliver’s dynamic had manifested at sixteen, his parents had his six-year-old sister Thea who would later present as an Alpha. It didn’t make sense, his father got a sire and paternal heir in the end. Why’d he have to go and make Oliver feel like shit about his own dynamic for so long?

Still, Oliver didn’t know what any of the former had to do with Isabel Rochev.

His mother was clearly uneasy though, once again keeping her eyes away from Oliver’s and fidgeting her hands in one another or in the fabric of her dress.

Oliver’s ears pricked up again at the sound of mother's voice.

“Your father, in his grief, fell in with Isabel. She was the bright, beautiful Alpha intern still in business school that caught your father’s eye. They were together for some time, I believe, until your father cut things off with her around about that time when Thea broke her arm falling off a horse.

I never saw or heard anything about her after that, until in recent years when she climbed her way up in the business world and became vice-president of Stellmoor International. Presumably Miss Rochev swore vengeance on us all, especially after your father passed,” Moira laments, though Oliver’s mind had turned out to her words long ago.

If Oliver had been looking at his mother he probably would have noticed her staring wistfully out into space, but the Omega wasn’t looking. Instead, Oliver had his head slumped forward in the palms of his hands in an attempt to steady the thoughts rattling about his mind.

A dull headache had begun to radiate behind Oliver’s temples and his stomach felt like it had turned over at least once.

_I nearly got into bed with Isabel after she’d been sleeping with my dad,_ Oliver’s mind inadvertently had to remind him. Only the fact that Isabel was an Alpha—and Oliver had always been skittish about getting into bed with Alphas, because after a round of sex with them and potentially sweating off his Beta cologne, they might be able to detect his Omega scent—had kept Oliver from thinking she’d be a satisfying lay in Russia.

Though his mouth had still ended up on her’s and the Alpha female had clawed her hands over his biceps through his suit before Oliver managed to pry her off of him and excuse himself.

It was bad enough—though it hadn’t seem like it at the time—that he and Tommy were Eskimo Brothers as teenagers, often luring the same Omegas and Betas into bed together at different times—and then sometimes at the same time. But the fact that Oliver had even considered sleeping with someone his dad had slept with was an all new low. Although Oliver’s stomach still churned with unease, he was immediately relieved by the fact that he was smart enough to _not_ have sex with Isabel.

Oliver is silent, rubbing his hands up over his temples and into his hairline. He’s just about heard enough of this conversation and was about at the point where he was ready to get up and depart his mother’s presence.

Moira’s hand settles above his knee, and the next words his mother says are like a bucket of ice cold water to Oliver’s system.

“I’m sorry for the way your father treated you over the years. Though it cannot be excused, your father had his own problems that had nothing to do with your dynamic,” Moira says in a somber, low tone.

Almost instantly, it dawns on Oliver what his mother is referring to. Both of his hands fell from his face and curled into what they could of the leather couch beneath him.

_She knows…_

As Oliver’s head snapped round to face his mother—his brows lowered over his wide eyes and anxiety constricting through his chest like a snake—, Moira gingerly pulled her hand back off his leg.

Her eyes were soft and knowing, Oliver noticed as he locked eyes with her, though her lips were curled downwards into the beginning of a frown.

_How long has she know for?_

His mom knew that he was an Omega, the truth about his dynamic.

“When did you find out?” Oliver started, before having to wet his dry lips and clear his throat.

“How long have you known… that I wasn’t a Beta for?”

A sigh left his mother and then her hand was suddenly settled over Oliver’s own still clawed into the couch.

“For a long time now,” Moira offered, giving Oliver a small smile.

Quickly, Oliver found himself avoiding her blue eyes and staring off at a wall behind his mom’s shoulder.

The fingers on Oliver’s hand gingerly stroked over his knuckles.

“Though I wouldn’t expect you to know this and it’s likely of no condolence to you, but I always knew you were never going to be a Beta,” Moira stated.

Inexplicably Oliver found himself unable to speak or respond to his mother’s words, his voice box feeling unusually stiff and rigid. Presumably his silence though posed the questions he would have asked  his mom—the _how_ and _why_ —as Moira quickly fills in the quiet between them.

“I remember getting a blood test done when I was very young to determine my dynamic. I discovered that my dominant gene was obviously that of an Omega, determining my dynamic, but my recessive gene was that of an Alpha so my children could be either Alphas or Omegas. You were always going to be one or the other, Oliver. Your father and I could never produce a Beta together.”

There was the faintest hint of amusement in Moira’s voice, and Oliver took it to mean that what his mother was telling him was basic Biology one-oh-one. And that he clearly had never been able to fool her with suppressants and Beta colognes into thinking he was a Beta… because genetically he could never have been a Beta.

Faintly, Oliver remembers the scandal the paparazzi and media went on with when he was about eighteen, about when his dynamic would have been expected to have revealed him as either as an Alpha or an Omega. But to the public world, Oliver Queen remained a Beta.

There were rumors and stuff, Oliver thinks, about how his mother must have either been a Beta, carried the Beta gene, or that Oliver’s dynamic must have just been exceeding late presenting itself. Or that his mother hadn’t actually been his dam and given birth to him.

For a moment, Oliver wondered who else knew about his dynamic. Thea? Surely not though as she’d never mentioned it. Some of the house staff like Raisa—most likely, as someone had to be putting Oliver’s sheets through the wash that got stained with his slick when he was in heat.

Oliver opened his mouth, then closed it. He wasn’t even sure what he wanted to say, or what he wanted to hear from his mother anymore.

His mother remained gently caressing her fingernails almost soothingly over Oliver’s hand though.

“As for… the actual signs of your dynamic presenting itself, your scent around about when you were nine sort of confirmed you weren’t going to be an Alpha. You were not an uncommon late teenage Omega bloomer though. You were sixteen when your father, evidently found out about your dynamic presenting itself before I did. And it seemed like neither you nor him were very happy about the fact that you were an Omega,” Moira sighed, brushing a bang of hair back behind her ear.

A stabbing pain-like sensation plunged through Oliver’s heart. He then let out a shuddery breath before turning to face his mother again.

“So what… you _knew_ and you just didn’t bother to say anything? To me or dad?” Oliver said, barely above a whisper as he stared his mother down.

Every breath he took and that left him felt like it was hitching in his throat.

_She knew…_

Pain—almost like betrayal—was a knife sliding through Oliver’s heart muscle.

_She knew from the beginning and let dad treat me like shit. Let dad made me feel like my dynamic was_ _wrong and something that had to be hidden._

Even as small feelings of spite for his mother swirled amongst his head, Oliver was still cognitive enough to realise that he was having anxiety. Or at least… he was pretty sure he was.

He had to shake that off.

A low sound left Moira as the older Omega shook her head.

“Perhaps I made the wrong choice in not saying something to you, and I will acknowledge that. But you seemed far more comfortable within your own skin living as a Beta, as you had pretty much always done so. I didn’t want to let on that to the fact that I knew you were an Omega because I didn’t want to impose and make you feel like you had to live as something you were uncomfortable being.

Evidently, your father preferred the idea that you conceal your dynamic, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t love you.”

Moira’s hand was still placed gently over his own and Oliver found that some of the anxiety in him seemed to have subsided to the point where he could think straight.

Oliver mullies over his mother’s words. Had Moira brought up his Omega dynamic to his sixteen-year-old self, Oliver imagined he would have brushed her off and wanted to keep masquerading as a Beta anyway. Pretending to be something he wasn’t to Tommy and everyone else because it was indeed easier to just exist that way. Pretend he didn’t go into heat and that he was the same as he always was.

There was little doubt in Oliver’s mind that he would have fobbed his mother off, possibly causing things to become strained between them like they had become between himself and his father. Hence, he supposed maybe his mother was justified in not wanting to bring his dynamic up to him.

Just as she could sort of be justified in being complacent with the Undertaking if it was to protect him and Thea.

None of this really helped Oliver sort out his feelings regarding his father though.

The Omega male makes a tsking sound.

“I just wasn’t his first born preference, now was I? Not an Alpha. Not like Thea.”

When Oliver turned to seek his mother’s gaze, he found Moira staring back at him with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“I don’t want to defend your father’s actions…” Moira started, followed by a slight pause before continuing.

“But regardless of whether you were our first born or not, it was very much… How your father and I were raised in our families. That the dynamics of Omegas—and to a lesser extent Alphas—were something to be hidden away until your parents were happy with a potential suitor or Bondmate.

Those were different times, Oliver, over thirty years ago. And although your father may have seen no issue with these ways because he was never forced to hide his dynamic when he was younger. I, on the other hand, was. I knew that all these 1800-style courtships and acting like Omegas had lesser rights was backwards and far in a way outdated.”

A smirk crossed Oliver’s face. It sounded his mom had grown up in a similar situation to him. They definitely had more in common, aside from their dynamics, than the Omega male would have initially suspected.

“Is that why Thea and I don’t really have grandparents on your side? Because you’re estranged from and annoyed with them?” Oliver posed the question with a slight hint of amusement in his voice.

Shaking her head, Moira’s face lit up with a genuine smile as she pet her hand over her son’s.

“No, actually, my two mothers thought the idea that I would marry a man was preposterous and inane. For several generations, my family—the Queens—had upheld a tradition of only Omega and Alpha females being allowed to wed to one another. Male offspring in my family were either ostracized or not allowed to wed at all under fear of disownment. I became engaged to your father though, and expectedly my parents very much disowned me. And when I married your father, he took my maiden name. So it was like I continued to spite my mothers long after they’d disowned me.”

Oliver actually let out a chuckle at his mom’s story. Who knew his mother was the kind of person to do something like that.

“I feel like we’re missed a lot of opportunities to talk about important things over the years,” Moira states, weaving her fingers in over top of Oliver’s that had ceased clenching into the couch.

“Are you still drinking through your heats—”

“— _Mom!_ ” Oliver let out flabbergasted.

_Of course she’d know I stole bottles from around the house a lot when I was in heat._ She was his mother, after all.

His mom and him had never discussed ‘Omega stuff’ though and at nearing twenty-nine Oliver was far too old to want to start. He could live with his mother knowing he was an Omega, but not them suddenly talking about weird dynamic stuff Oliver had never wanted to talk about with _anyone_.

“Alright, alright,” his mother spoke softly.

Moira removed her hand from over Oliver’s, instead placing it over her crossed knees.

Mentally, Oliver breathed a sigh of relief when his mother grew quiet and didn’t immediately ask him anymore embarrassing questions.

For a moment, they were both silent as the gears just turned in Oliver’s head. He had no idea how they’d really ended up on this topic. This whole conversation had cycled through weirding him out, stressing him, and then just embarrassing him.

All he’d really wanted to know was why Isabel was so vindictive against their family and he’d learnt that now. Isabel could definitely still wreak havoc on him if he wasn’t careful.

Currently, a great part of Oliver’s mind felt relieved by the fact that his mom knew about and had accepted his dynamic the whole time.

Yet one thing didn’t add up to Oliver…

Rather than wonder about the subject in his head, the Omega just decided to blurt the question out to his mother.

“Wait… So how did you and dad have Thea anyway? IVF?”

Almost instantly, Moira grew shy under his gaze. Her eyes slid away from his and Moira’s fingernails went back to digging into the fabric of her dress.

Oliver was about to let out a stern _Mom_ , not liking where this was going—his mother seemingly avoiding the question—but Moira beat him to speaking.

“Robert wasn’t Thea’s father,” Moira states solemnly, staring off into space.

The Omega male’s mind flashbacked to the details of his mother’s trial. His mother had essentially already given him an answer to his question. Laurel had been forced to point this smoking gun in his mother’s direction but his mom had at least told him and Thea the truth prior to her testifying.

_Years ago, it was many years ago. Your father was engaging in his… extramarital activities. And I had a moment of weakness. I cheated on him… with Malcolm Merlyn._

He was about 99% sure what the answer to his next question was going to be but Oliver found himself compelled to ask it anyway.

_Dad’s not Thea’s father…_ Apparently he had infertility issues, why wouldn’t that make sense?

“Who was then?” Oliver was forced to ask.

Moira appears to visible squirm under his gaze, uncrossing and then re-crossing her legs together.

“At some point… soon, Thea also needs to be told something. Not from you or anyone else, but from me. Until that point, I ask you to _please_ , keep this to yourself,” Moira quietly pleads to Oliver.

She pauses, she hesitates—Oliver imagines—before telling the younger Omega exactly what he expected to hear.

“Malcolm Merlyn was Thea’s father.”

Oliver rubbed his palms together, anxiously. It had been the answer he’d been expecting but that still didn’t make that pill any easier to swallow.

_And I killed my sister’s father…_

A moment passes and then another in which Oliver and his mother remained silent and not looking at one another. Before Oliver decided he had better say something.

His mom was likely feeling worse right now than he was. At least the fact that Malcolm was a mass murderer helped ebb Oliver’s guilt over killing his sister’s biological father.

“We should… when do you intend to tell Thea?” Oliver asked attentively.

When Moira turned to look at him, her eyes looked slightly glassy but her voice was steady as she spoke.

“If Thea has a right to know about who her biological father was, does she not also have a right to know about her brother’s dynamic?”

Oliver let out a sigh, his chest once again heating up with emotions he’d rather not deal with now. Eventually he had to deal with those emotions though. The secrets that both he and his mother were keeping from his little sister would potentially destroy her if she found out about them from anyone else but them.

“I’ll… I should talk to her first, shouldn’t I? It’ll be easier. And then, sometime after that you—or I’ll be there with you—, we should tell Thea about Malcolm.”

Moira merely nods at Oliver’s suggestion.

It’s quiet again up until the point where Moira shuffles herself across the couch and closer to her son.

The Omega male raises an eyebrow at his mother but doesn’t say anything.

“While we’re on the subject of being honest with one another, I would like to ask you something. Though you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” Moira says.

Oliver swallows around a lump in his throat. What could his mother want to ask him now?

Somehow Oliver’s head ends up nodding even as his mind was simultaneously fretting over what other potential information his mother could attempt to pry out of him. She couldn’t know he was the Arrow… could she?

“I was just wondering when I would get to hear about this Alpha you’re seeing.”

Moira gave Oliver a knowing smile and the Omega male’s mind turned to mush.

_How does she know about Slade and I?!_ Did she know they were pseudo-Bonded? She shouldn’t, _right_? Unless his scent had been what had given him away like it had done when Dig made the comment to Felicity that he and Slade were Bonded.

“Umm…” Oliver paused, unable to form intelligent words for a moment.

“How did you find out about that?”

Why the hell was his mom even asking him about this anyway? Did she ask Thea about how her and Roy were doing? _Probably_ , Oliver supposed maybe that’s just how moms were.

Throwing her head to one side, Moira sounds like she muffles a laugh.

“Well, when you walk in with the scent of Alpha overlaying your Beta cologne like right now, it becomes rather obvious. And then there’s the matter that clearly _someone_ was sending you flowers at Queen Consolidated. You may also been an adult Oliver, but you won’t have anyone sneaking in and out of my household without my knowledge,” Moira explained.

_Shit,_ Oliver mentally cussed. He knew that one time Slade snuck into his house and stayed the night had been a bad idea.

There was no way for him either to even defend himself or lie to what his mother was saying because she so thoroughly knew the truth.

And yet, Oliver’s heart still fluttered at the mention of Slade.

“What’s this Alpha’s name, anyway?” his mom asks when Oliver remains silent, the younger Omega knowing he wouldn’t be able to lie his way out of this one.

“ _Slade_ ,” Oliver breathed out with a sigh.

That was an easy enough question for him to answer.

“Mhm, _the slayer_ ,” Moira hummed, “Male name, I’m presuming?”

Despite the fact that Oliver didn’t think _the slayer_ is what his Alpha’s name actually meant, the Omega nodded anyway.

“So, how long have you know each other for?” Moira posed the question softly.

With that question, Oliver actually had to pause to think.

How long had he and Slade actually know each other for? They’d been together on Lian Yu for something like a year or close to it. But then they were separated and didn't see each other for over five years. And it wasn’t until early December last year that Oliver found out about Slade being in Starling, and that was simultaneously about the same amount of time they’d been Bonded for. Though they hadn’t always been civil to one another during that time.

“Uhh, over a year now,” Oliver just decides to state, keeping it simple.

Moira nods.

“Seems like you’re pretty serious about this Alpha. I presume he also knows about your dynamic?”

Oliver says nothing. Because _yes_ the fact that he and Slade were Bonded denoted that their relationship was something more than a simple one night stand for Oliver. Though Oliver dearly hoped his mother didn’t know they were Bonded, just how sort of _serious_ they were.

He also… kind of wouldn’t mind an entire Bond with Slade rather than just a pseudo, but Oliver swiftly swept those thoughts to the back of his mind.

His silence must say it all though as his mother doesn’t wait for a response from him before she poses another question.

“Do I or Thea get to meet this Alpha?”

The younger Omega adamantly shook his head.

“We haven’t really discussed it…” Oliver defended meekly.

Which was true, but the way his mother was staring at him really intently like she wanted a proper answer _now_ made Oliver feel restless in his own skin.

“Well, if you’re comfortable with it—”

He certainly didn’t think he was.

“—I insist you bring this Alpha over for dinner sometime,” Moira chimed with a smile.

Oliver shifted his backside on the couch, immediately wanting to flee his mother’s presence and not deal with this awkward conversation anymore.

“I’ll think about it,” Oliver responded before the Omega male swiftly jumped to his feet.

Making a beeline out of the room, Oliver didn’t stop until he was lingering in the archway that connected the living room back up to the foyer.

Glancing over his shoulder, Oliver noticed his mother still sat on the couch, staring back at him with a smile.

“Uhh, thanks mom,” Oliver blurted out sheepishly before darting out of the room.

xxxxxxxx

After departing his mother’s presence and having a shower, Oliver decided to just lay in bed and text Slade. There was no way he wanted to leave his room for fear of seeing his mother and her appearance reminding him of their awkward, earlier conversation. So… Oliver decided he would just retreat to his room for the night seeing as he’d eaten earlier today with Slade and had no other pressing matters to attend to.

**_So, I talked to my mom about Isabel,_** the Omega texts his Alpha.

His phone is silent for several minutes as Oliver remains semi-focused on the late night news he’d turned on in the background. Usually when he didn’t hear on the news about the ongoing strife in the Glades, kidnappings, theft, or murders, Oliver felt slightly more at ease. Which is exactly how the Omega felt now when none of the former appeared to be being broadcasted on the news.

Roughly five minutes or so after he’d texted his Alpha and Slade still hadn’t responded, Oliver wondered if Slade might have actually been asleep. His Alpha did mention today that he’d been sleeping better with Oliver’s antidepressants and valiums, so maybe tonight he was actually sleeping at a reasonable hour, free of nightmares.

Within a minute of Oliver having that thought though, his phone vibrates in his hand proving that his Alpha was indeed still awake.

**_Slade: And?_ **

Oliver let out a sigh, even as he realised Slade couldn’t see him. Isabel was really the last thing on his mind at the moment.

He typed out a response to his Alpha before immediately sending it.

**_I’m not really worried about Isabel at the moment. Somehow, my mom and I got onto talking about other, really weird stuff. Like my sister’s dad is Malcolm Merlyn. And I killed him._ **

Not that killing Malcolm Merlyn overly bothered Oliver when the Alpha dropped an earthquake on the Glades that killed five-hundred-and-three people, including Tommy. Though the fact that he had killed his sister’s father was something he’d have to forever live with and keep from Thea and his mom.

Slade’s texted Oliver back almost instantly of the Omega sending his own message.

**_Sorry, kid. I think Isabel might have actually mentioned that to me in passing that your dad wasn’t her dad, though over the past couple years I haven’t always been able to tell the difference between reality and shit my own mind made up._ **

**_‘Thought it’d be better if you heard a truer recollection of events from someone else like your mum._ **

A smile graced Oliver’s face at Slade’s words. His Alpha was good to him.

**_It’s fine,_** Oliver typed back to his Alpha.

**_My mom knows about my dynamic though. Apparently she’s known for ages._ **

Looking up at the ceiling of his bedroom awaiting Slade’s response text, the Omega still wasn’t sure how he felt about his mom knowing the truth about him. It was a relief, for sure though, knowing he’d never have to disclose that secret to his mother like he would inevitably have to do with Thea.

When Oliver reads his Alpha’s next text, he can practically feel Slade rolling his eyes at him.

**_Well I’d be a bit fuckin’ surprised if she didn’t know. She’s your mum for Christ’s sake. If she was shocked by your dynamic I’d say she was a bad mother._ **

Oliver smirked at his Alpha’s words even as they weren’t what he was expecting. Even knowing and having experienced Slade’s gruff way with words for a while now, it still surprised and occasionally amused Oliver.

**_My mum knows about us, though I dunno when she found out,_** Oliver texts back to his Alpha.

Slade is silent for a moment before Oliver’s phone vibrates with a response from him.

**_‘That bother you, kid?_ **

The Omega shook his head looking at his mobile.

**_Not really, I suppose. But she does want to meet you._ **

**_That’s your call then, kid. ‘Guessing you don’t want that anytime soon?_ **

Silently, Oliver thanked his Alpha for his understanding. Really he couldn’t introduce Slade to his family until he’d told Thea the truth about his dynamic, and preferably his mother had already told her about Malcolm being her biological father. It was better that he get the difficult, more important conversations out of the way first because bothering with bringing Slade over for dinner.

God know’s Oliver could barely handle the talk he had today with his mother. Let alone several of them in a short amount of time.

Yet Oliver just texts his Alpha back a simple **_No_**.

For the most part, everything between himself, Slade, his friends and family were fine. Whatever woes he had today could surely wait until another day.

**_Hey,_** Slade texts him after a moment.

**_But now that your mum knows about us, there’s really no reason for you to get so antsy any more about when I come over. ‘Should be able to come over whenever I please now._ **

Oliver merely growled.


	16. Nightmares and Dreamscapes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to all my lovely readers for the long delay between updates. Thank you all for continuing to read the story and your patience.
> 
> A big thank you also to Alasmylove on archiveofourown for pre-reading this chapter!

Tuesday evening found Oliver, clad in Arrow gear, scaling the perimeter fence surrounding Queen Consolidated's Applied Sciences Division. When the Omega dropped onto the ground on the inside of the fence, he turned to notice Slade watching him, arms crossed, still on the other side of the fence.

“Come on,” Oliver stated, waiting for the Alpha to also make haste over the fence.

Slade groaned, though the steely mask over the Alpha’s face made his expression impossible to read.

The Alpha slung an empty, black duffel bag off from his shoulder, before throwing it up over the fence where it landed on the ground beside the Omega. Oliver then threw the bag over his torso so it could sit next to his quiver and bow.

“Sure this wouldn’t just be easier if we rolled a couple grenades into the place? I do have a few on me, y’know,” Slade offered, a hint of amusement in his voice.

As the Omega let out a low growl—easily picking out the golden coloured explosive canisters sat over his Alpha’s chest in the dark—Slade seemed to get the picture. At Oliver’s seeming disapproval, Slade then dug his gloved fingers into the chainlink fence and begun to hoist himself up and over it.

Although the grenades did remain on Slade’s person when they went out together like this, the Alpha had told Oliver that he’d replaced all the ammunition in his guns with full metal jacket bullets rather than the usual hollow points he carried.

Rolling his eyes at the memory, Oliver then shook his head.

“I already told you no,” Oliver dictated sternly, waiting for his Alpha to climb over the fence.

Blowing up all of, or even just part of, Queen Consolidated's Applied Sciences Division would indeed be a thorough way of destroying the Mirakuru. But it would also likely tip Isabel off that he’d been here and that clearly _someone_ —mainly Slade—had tipped him off about the Mirakuru being here in the first place.

From Oliver’s understanding of what Slade had told him on the way here, the Alpha’s end of the deal with Isabel had been to funnel enough money into her pocket so that she had enough wealth to buy out Queen Consolidated's stocks and take control of the company. That failed though when Walter, Oliver’s ex-step father, enabled the Omega to purchase and control exactly fifty-percent of the company’s shares, making him and Isabel effectively partners.

Plan B had apparently been for Isabel to just continue as she was now and Slade would have—in the Alpha’s own words— _distracted him_. With Oliver distracted and not focused on Queen Consolidated, Isabel would have then legally been able to attempt usurping him.

Clearly, Oliver hadn’t liked the sound of any of that and had growled at Slade whilst they talked on the way to coming here. His Alpha had briefly hung his head in shame over his past actions, though him being here right now definitely proved Slade was no longer on board with helping Isabel pilfer the Queen family company out from under Oliver.

Sighing, Oliver was once again reminded of how badly things could have gone between him and Slade.

_Had you not gotten into bed with him,_ Oliver’s mind offered before he quickly had to mentally slap those less than appropriate thoughts out of his head.

“We get in, grab the Mirakuru, get out, and then destroy it elsewhere,” Oliver finished as Slade dropped down from the fence beside him.

A groan left Slade as the Alpha’s knees appeared to wobble beneath his weight and one of Slade’s hands went to rest over his lumbar.

“‘Couldn’t have just cut a hole through the fence now, could yah? ‘Back still fuckin’ hurts when I’m forced to do shit like this,” Slade complained whilst pressing his palm into his spine.

Oliver merely scowled at his Alpha while he waited for Slade to right his footing.

It had been over a week now since Slade had tackled and killed Cyrus Gold. His back had healed enough to the point where he could seemingly walk without pain. Oliver still couldn’t help but think that Slade could have potentially avoided this injury altogether if he’d just told Oliver about his woes about Cyrus earlier and they then took him down together.

As Slade straightened himself back up, Oliver surveyed the building stood before them. Queen Consolidated's Applied Sciences Division was far too big for Oliver to think he could just sift through the place and eventually stumble upon where the Mirakuru was being stored. No, it would take too long to do on his own, even with Slade.

He would need specialised help. Which is exactly what Felicity excelled at providing him.

Oliver threw his Alpha a glance to find that Slade was standing properly once again, observing him. Then Oliver tapped the side of the Bluetooth in his right ear, redialling the only number he really ever called from the device.

Felicity’s voice quickly chimed into Oliver’s ear.

“Hey. Looks like you and Slade are outside QC’s Applied Sciences Division now,” Felicity stated, easily able to detect the Omega’s location based of the GPS in his boot.

“Felicity, you’ve gotten access to the surveillance inside the building, right?” Oliver asked.

There didn’tappear to be anyone outside the building. At least, no one had come to intercept him and Slade, though that didn’t mean there wasn’t a horde of security inside.

Out of the corner of his eye, Oliver noticed Slade move up closer beside him, perhaps trying to listen in on Felicity’s end of the conversation.

“Yep. And it seems like neither you nor Isabel decided to tighten up security. Y’know, after Cyrus Gold murdered everyone over there.”

A low growl escaped Oliver as he scowled. Several weeks back Gold had murdered all the employees in the building in the process of nicking an industrial centrifuge from there. That was not something Oliver needed reminding of.

“ _Felicity_ ,” Oliver stressed the Beta’s name, “It’s nearly midnight. Just tell me how many people are inside.”

Something—Slade’s gloved hand—Oliver noticed as he glanced down, briefly brushed over the inside of the Omega’s palm, causing the Omega to give his Alpha a look.

His Alpha watched him intently with dark eyes, the smell of heady musk filling the air.

With his scent neutraliser on, dampening his olfactory system and his scent to the point where it was virtually nonexistent, Oliver wasn’t used to smelling Slade through it. Even normally though, Slade did have a very dominant, overpowering scent. Like his own lineage, Oliver imagined Slade didn’t have Betas in his family, instead Slade was probably backed by _a lot_ of Alphas genes.

_Mom should have no complaints about Slade then_ , Oliver couldn’t help but think before wanting to punch himself at how he couldn’t stay focused on a mission for five-minutes without Slade’s scent half-intoxicating him.

It made him go weak in the knees and want Slade on top of him, the Alpha shoving his cock into him.

Maybe he ought to make Slade also cover his scent if the Alpha was going to suit up and come out with him on Arrow business. Not only was Slade’s unique smell distracting but the Alpha’s identity, underneath all that armour and weaponry, became easier for the cops to discern if Slade was just going to leave his scent all over the place.

The Beta female on the other end of the phone drew Oliver’s attention away from Slade, re-grounding him.

“None. I mean, there’s nobody inside the building right now, from what I can see. Looks like you two are free to go on in without any hassles,” Felicity reported after a moment.

Oliver gave his Alpha a nod and then flicked his head in the direction of the building.

“Mind disabling the surveillance footage for us now would you, Felicity?” Oliver asked.

“I’m on it.”

From where he and Slade had approached the perimeter fence from and were currently still standing, Oliver knew they were in a blind spot of the building’s surveillance cameras. If they moved much closer they wouldn’t be. Which would also give Isabel a pretty good idea of what they were up to if she had CCTV footage of them sneaking around the building.

“Done,” Felicity informed, before Oliver thanked her and the Beta grew quiet but didn’t ring off.

“Come on,” Oliver prompted Slade again, finally moving from where he’d been rooted to the spot.

They trotted up to the main entryway to the building and Oliver pinned a code into the door’s keypad. When the Omega tried the door and found it had unlocked, he was pleasantly surprised to find that the door codes had not been changed.

Rows of nearly ceiling-high stacked shelves awaited Oliver and Slade inside the warehouse-like building.

“So…” Oliver started, taking a couple steps into the building and giving his surroundings a look up and down.

He really had no idea what anything he was looking at _was_. All these units of steel cylinders that looked like they were could be used for storing liquid nitrogen with varying labels on them.

As Oliver began to walk through the building, he could hear Slade’s footfalls trailing behind him.

“Any idea what we’re looking for?” the Omega stated to both himself, Slade, and Felicity who’d been quiet for the past minute.

“Other than a bunch of vials with either my blood in ‘em or straight Mirakuru, not really,” Slade responded gruffly from behind him.

At that moment, Felicity also decided to chime in.

“Centrifuge, carbon dixode incubator—you know, stuff to do with taking and storing blood or other bodily fluids—” Felicity began, rattling off a bunch of words Oliver barely understood.

“—Refrigerator, cold room, containment freezer—I’m assuming the Mirakuru or a sample of Slade’s blood would be something you’d want to keep cold—”

Oliver cut the Beta off there.

“—A cold room, or somewhere cold, let’s go with that.”

After a moment of researching and keyboard-tapping on Felicity’s part, the Beta directed Oliver and Slade to the nearest walk-in freezer from their position. Which, based off the building’s blueprints, should be to the far left from where they entered.

Upon opening the cold room, chilled air—which was definitely colder than the naked winter air outside and anything Oliver could reasonably tolerate—bit into Oliver’s skin through his clothing. But the Omega quickly forced his legs to move as he paced through the freezer, scanning the shelves on his way.

The quicker they found the Mirakuru, the quicker they could get out of here.

Behind him, Slade growled lowly and let out a cuss, seemingly at the temperature, before the Alpha then moved up to walk beside his Omega.

When Oliver’s eyes glanced over something green—the Mirakuru had been green, right?—, he stopped and turned to the shelves on his left.

There were about a dozen green-filled tubes sitting in a small rack at Oliver’s eye level.

Gingerly, Oliver reached out and withdrew one of the plastic tubes from out of its rack and observed it.

Considering the fact that the tubes had some weird, confusing words to Oliver on them like _biohazard_ and _mutagenic_ , and that the green colouring looked consistent with what the Omega remembered jabbing a dying Slade with on the submarine… he figured that this was what they were looking for. Though this was also a sample from Slade’s blood.

Slade was stood right next to him when Oliver turned to find his Alpha, still holding the vial in his hand.

_He doesn’t bleed this colour, does he,_ Oliver couldn’t help wonder, looking from the vial and then back to his Alpha.

_No_ , Slade had bled slightly the other night when Oliver had given him an injection of morphine for his back pain. The Alpha’s blood had been the normal, expected maroon colour but Oliver still had to wonder as he was slightly concerned.

“It doesn’t come out of you this colour, does it?” Oliver asked, more tactfully with his words.

“What do I look like, a fucking lizard to you, kid!” Slade barked, shaking his head.

Oliver was going to take that as a _no_ , which despite Slade berating him was still better than the idea that his Alpha had green blood.

“Slade’s pleasant, isn’t he?” Felicity spoke up through Oliver’s Bluetooth.

The Omega sighed, slinging the duffel bag he had brought off his shoulder and onto the floor. Felicity had likely just caught Slade’s words.

“But then again, sometimes you aren’t all that pleasant either. Especially when you’re in heat. Guess that’s how Slade manages to stand you—”

“—Felicity,” Oliver growled.

“We’ve got the Mirakuru. Turn the surveillance footage back on here in five. I’ll see you back at Verdant or you head home.”

Unzipping the duffel bag on the floor, Oliver placed the plastic vial of Mirakuru in it. Slade also then grabbed a handful of the tubes, dumping them in on top of one another.

Felicity made a sound of agreement.

“You know your hyacinths, azaleas, and violets over here are all just about dead, Oliver? Or maybe you don’t know that, seeing as I’ve been looking after them. Those lilies of the valley you took home still—”

“—Goodbye, Felicity,” Oliver stated, cutting the Beta off as he hung up on her.

Sometimes Felicity utterly embarrassed him. And he still owed the Beta a ‘girls’ night in’ or something, for keeping him and Slade a secret from her and Dig for so long.

Shaking his head to clear his mind of thoughts unrelated to the task at hand, Oliver watched Slade drop the Mirakuru into the bag.

The Omega grabbed the last two green-filled vials from their rack.

Though Oliver found he couldn’t immediately dump them into the duffel bag Slade was now beginning to zip up, other thoughts swirling amidst Oliver’s head.

Should they keep a sample of the Mirakuru, of Slade’s blood?

He wasn’t a scientist or anything, but possibly from a sample of Slade’s blood, wouldn’t there also _possibly_ be a way to engineer a reversal agent for the Mirakuru? A cure for Slade?

Oliver’s gloved hand tightened around the Mirakuru-filled vials.

Not only did he not know anyone with the expertise or resources to do biological experimentation and testing of that level, but surely after over five years the Mirakuru would have well and truly made a home in Slade.

Attempting to reverse or change whatever effect the Mirakuru had on Slade—in the Alpha’s very blood and likely bone marrow—could be a disaster and likely wouldn’t be a painless process.

Looking down at the vials still in his hand, Oliver let them roll off his palm and into the bag Slade zipped up. Then the Omega nodded at his Alpha, taking the bag from him and slinging it back over his shoulder.

Quickly he and Slade darted back out of Queen Consolidated's Applied Sciences Division and didn’t stop until they were over the perimeter fence.

This time Slade jumped the fence first with Oliver carefully throwing over the Mirakuru filled bag to him.

When the Omega retrieved the bag from Slade on the opposite side of the fence—the bag filled with the same somewhat harmful substance his Alpha was—, he realised something.

That he accepted Slade the way he was. No, to him Slade was _cured_ , because there was nothing to cure or change about his Alpha. Although a lack of Mirakuru in his system might have been better for Slade’s mental wellbeing, Slade was still so willing to compromise and put Oliver before himself despite the poison that Oliver had used to save his life.

Not attempting to change the way he and Slade were, and just accepting the way that they’d ended up in this situation and relationship, was Oliver compromising too.

He wouldn’t change his Alpha for the world, because he loved that old man.

xxxxxxxx

Sometime after midnight, Slade and Oliver began to burn the bag of Mirakuru downtown underneath a bridge.

They lit a fire with matches Oliver had brought in his back pocket. Slade even gathered some twigs and poor kindling from around the area to aid the fire in burning quicker and brighter.

Oliver had smiled at that, the image of himself and Slade lighting a fire together in the dark very reminiscent of old memories from the island.

Orange and yellow flames licked up the kindling and the Mirakuru surely began to burn as Oliver plonked himself down on the ground beside Slade.

It would take a short while before the bag and its contents were ashes and so Oliver began to just talk with his Alpha while they waited.

He and Slade conversed for a while just about shit. They talked about the island, how almost weird it was to be together, living in civilisation, when they’d become so accustomed to cooking pheasants over a fire.

Moira also came up when Oliver re-told Slade he wasn’t ready to bring his Alpha over to see his family, yet. None of that could happen until he told his little sister he was an Omega, otherwise the fact that he and Slade were pseudo-Bonded could never come up and still make sense.

Oliver didn’t know when he’d introduce Slade to his family but he also didn’t know what he’d tell them. That he and Slade were on the island together? It was the truth, but then he and Slade were separated from each other for a number of years. And Slade then showed up in Starling City for reasons Oliver didn’t think his mother and sister ever needed to know about.

Ultimately, Slade was happy to put the ball in Oliver’s court regarding what half-truths the Omega’s family were going to be told. Though Slade did admit to Oliver that the matter of him finding out the Omega was alive in 2012, then getting his shit together to proceed over to Starling City to _see_ Oliver—leaving out a couple details… that was indeed the truth.

The fire warmed the chill of January’s winter air, though Oliver still found himself nestling his head into the crook between Slade’s neck and shoulder, content.

It was over. With the Mirakuru destroyed, Sebastian and Isabel had little ability to hurt them and were likely fine to be left to their own devices so long as they weren’t hurting anyone else.

For now, Oliver could just relish and enjoy his Alpha’s company, curled up next to Slade with a fire burning in the background.

_Yes_ , this is exactly what he and Slade should have been doing on the island.

xxxxxxxx

Over the next couple days, Slade and Oliver’s relationship fell into an easy, but quickly familiar, routine.

Every day they either talked or texted on the phone, but would then see each other during the evenings when Slade made his way to Oliver’s building-top location for a night of patrol and light crime-fighting together.

Slade’s back seemed to have fully mended now to the point where darting off of rooftops with Oliver was no problem for him.

The Omega remembered the GPS tracker Slade had stuck in his left boot and left it there for the Alpha’s convenience in tracking him down at night. Though very quickly Oliver just decided on a rooftop building meetup location for them, so if they were going out prowling the streets together, they’d meet up there at seven p.m.

Whilst out on patrol, Oliver also started dousing Slade with portable cans of scent neutraliser, to the Alpha’s disgruntlement.

When he and Slade weren’t outdoors watching over the city at night, they were usually indoors having dinner together. Always at Slade’s… apartment—or rather series of rooms repurposed as varying types of offices and apartments.

From Slade’s knowledge, he told Oliver that long ago, the building he lived in now had once been used for stock exchange. A lot of wealth had likely been accumulated here, hence there was an underground car park and basement area—the latter of which was why Slade wanted the building in the first place—beneath it. Someone, or multiple people, had owned and refurbished the place after it was no longer being used for stock exchange.

In 2013, the previous owner was murdered by the Hood and somebody put the place back on the market. It was far too expensive to be an easy sell and considering the previous owner had been struck down by the Vigilante… all those factors made the building easy for Slade to snap up.

Oliver had grimaced upon hearing his Alpha’s explanation of why he lived in such a big building that wasn’t at all like a house. He couldn’t remember if he’d ever put an arrow in someone in this building. The Omega surely hoped not as his Alpha now slept under this roof.

He and Slade still hadn’t talked, or rather Oliver hadn’t mentioned to Slade that he knew what the Alpha must have been doing over the past five years in order to accumulate this sort of raw wealth. Really, Oliver felt no need to want to judge or mention it to his Alpha.

Years ago he had killed in cold blood for the likes of A.R.G.U.S. and the Bratva. At least Slade likely had the incentive of reasonable amounts of cash to want to kill for and the excuse that he hallucinated, meaning Slade wasn’t always in a sound state of mind. Whereas Oliver, over the years, had mainly killed for selfish reasons, like to save his own hide.

Swiftly, Oliver had to shake those thoughts from his head as he watched his Alpha prepare their dinner.

His Alpha would always cook at his place, as Oliver still wasn’t sure about them going out to a restaurant and being seen together in public. Moira and Thea did not need to see him and Slade in the paparazzi's latest scoop before Oliver could properly introduce the Alpha to them.

His Alpha didn’t seem to mind Oliver’s reluctance for them to go out though as he cooked up varying different dishes for the Omega—sometimes Oliver would help but his cooking expertise starting and ended with chopping stuff up really—and expanded Oliver’s palate. Some of this stuff, Oliver had no idea where his Alpha brought the ingredients from, but Slade cooked mostly Australian cuisine and meats for him.

Within a couple days of doing dinner with Slade at night, the Alpha had Oliver try kangaroo pot roast, steamed barramundi, and grilled lamb chops.

A lot of the time, Oliver would end up staying the night and falling into bed beside his Alpha. It had gotten to the point where Oliver spent enough of his nights a week at Slade’s that he’d moved a few bits and pieces of his into Slade’s apartment. Just some toiletries, sleepwear and normal clothes to get him through till the next day.

Oliver’s flowers down in Verdant, and the lilies of the valley he took home, eventually all died, yet it barely phased the Omega when he had to throw them out. They were never going to last forever and Oliver was seeing enough of his Alpha as it was that he didn’t need any flowers to remind him of Slade.

Dig and Felicity reminded Oliver _plenty_ about Slade though.

Apparently the two of them didn’t mind Slade tagging along with Oliver while he went about his Arrow business. Rarely did Oliver get seriously injured in scuffles or fights, but Felicity and Dig seemed to like the idea that with Slade at Oliver’s side, the Omega was far less likely to sustain any wounds.

Felicity and he also agreed that this Saturday Oliver would go over to the Beta’s house and… do whatever she wanted. As payback for the stress Felicity claims Oliver inflicted on her when he and Slade were fighting and Oliver had spoken nil of it to his friends.

Also, Felicity didn’t like that while Oliver and Dig often sparred, and Oliver saw Slade daily when he went to the Alpha’s house for dinner or they were out on patrol together, she got to do nothing personal with Oliver. Thus, Felicity demanded her fair share of Oliver’s time.

Regardless of the fact that Felicity and Dig had still yet to see Slade kitted out in all his kevlar, swords, and guns, the two of them had questioned why—if Slade was going to be out roaming the city at night with Oliver—the Omega hadn’t had Slade move his stuff in with Oliver’s beneath Verdant yet.

Oliver had lightly growled at that suggestion of theirs. Only _lightly_ however as it was indeed a valid point. He and Slade were in a good place now that it’d be fine with Oliver if Slade moved his things down into Verdant’s basement.

Maybe Oliver would eventually have to run that idea past Slade.

Slade also gradually began to sleep easier at night. This became apparent by the fact that he texted and insisted on calling Oliver less during the small hours of the morning. Sometimes, when Oliver wasn’t sharing Slade’s bed, he’d get a call or a berating text asking him to ‘ _come over here right now, kid, or so help me I’ll come barging over to yours’_.

Even when Oliver was sleeping next to Slade, there were still times when the Alpha would moan and groan in his sleep, occasionally waking up shuddering so badly that Oliver could feel the vibrations from the other side of the bed. But those occurrences were definitely lessening.

From sharing a bed with Slade, Oliver had very quickly learnt to nuzzle and drop his head into the crook of Slade’s neck or just pull the older man’s arm around his waist to get Slade to fall back asleep.

Slade seemed to sleep far easier at night and soothed far quicker after nightmares when Oliver let the older man pull him into a tight embrace. A tight embrace that quickly became very hot and sweaty for Oliver, with Slade’s chest pressed up against him, but one the Omega wouldn’t dare try to escape until his Alpha was surely asleep.

Overall, Slade was gruffer and more like the man Oliver remembered who’d trained him—or rather kicked the shit out of him—on the island. Rather than the Alpha whose mind had been fractured and plagued by constant hallucinations, which would eventually cause him to want to seek revenge on Oliver.

Things were easy between him and Slade. Good even.

In spite of everything, Oliver’s sleep and dreams were uneasy. Or rather, they were _too_ easy.

xxxxxxxx

_Oliver and Slade were atop City Hall, the Omega pacing around the perimeter of the rooftop as he came to realise there was nothing to do._

_The city had been quiet all night. It had been quiet a lot lately. Not even Felicity who was back at Verdant keeping an eye on the news for him had any reports of criminal activity for Oliver to chase up._

_He was honestly bored, restless for something to do. There was no chance of Oliver sitting still when he had this fire burning in his gut that demanded he just_ do something!

_From behind Oliver, he heard Slade let out a low rumble._

_At the sound, Oliver turned to look at his Alpha who was still sat on the ground, Slade’s legs lazily sprawled out in front of him._

“ _Nothing to do. Guess that’s more time together for us then, kid,” Slade remarked._

_Despite the mask Slade wore, Oliver could sense the grin on the Alpha’s face through just his voice._

_The deep, almost guttural hint of a growl in Slade’s voice sent a shiver down Oliver’s spine. Oliver quickly shook that feeling off, though the feeling of heat pooling in his stomach continued to radiate throughout the rest of his body, down into his pelvis. There was a tightness in his spine and abs that made Oliver feel tingly all over._

_A low coughing sound escaped Oliver as he cleared his throat, though he didn’t think Slade heard it._

_“Wanna head back to yours for the night?” Oliver posed the question after a moment._

_Full of nervous energy, Oliver shifted on his feet._

_There had been something in Slade’s voice...  Something about the Alpha had set Oliver off. Or was it just the lack of anything to do on the streets that had Oliver feeling antsy? Like things were too good to be true. Regardless, Oliver_ didn’t _like that deep huskiness in his Alpha’s voice. Actually… he did, but for all the wrong reasons._

_Not that long ago Oliver had sprayed Slade with scent neturaliser to conceal the older man’s scent. Yet Oliver still found his nostrils twitching at the crisp air, trying and failing to catch a hint of his Alpha’s musky scent._

_A part of Oliver knew something was wrong, that something about this just wasn’t right, but his eyes and mind were solely focused on Slade._

_It was nearly below freezing outside and Oliver was uncomfortably aware of the sensation of heat and blood throbbing through his dick. The leather of his pants was naturally tight and Oliver’s cock firming up against the inside of them and his boxer-briefs reminded Oliver of that fact._

This isn’t good...

_“Nah,” Slade drawled, responding to the Omega’s question, “Not yet.”_

_Oliver found himself rooted to the spot as Slade slowly rose to his feet._

_As Slade began to walk towards Oliver, the Alpha pulled his black glove off his right hand, then carelessly discarded it to the ground._

_A lump formed in Oliver’s throat which the Omega attempted to swallow around._

_Slade came to a standstill right in front of him, and their faces were so close together. There was little Oliver could discern beneath Slade’s mask other than his Alpha’s dark, intense gaze._

_He was frozen, transfixed by his Alpha, up until the moment where Slade’s bare hand palmed over his pants and dick._

_“Already eager, are we?” Slade chuckled, clasping his fingers underneath Oliver’s balls, his hand seeking traction over the Omega’s cock._

Fuck, _Oliver cursed internally,_ Slade already knows I’m hard. _Was firming up even before Slade put his hand on him._

_But only a gasp left him as Slade’s hand rubbed over his shaft that was jutting into the side of his thigh, confined there by clothing._

_Through the haze of endorphins starting to fill his head—because Oliver knew it wasn’t blood, that was all going elsewhere_ — _with feelings of euphoria and pleasure, the Omega looked downwards to find his cock was noticeably hard._

_Both Slade and Oliver knew that Oliver was enjoying this, which was evidenced by the fact that his dick throbbed and his balls tightened when Slade squeezed as much of his growing erection as possible through his pants._

_He was a goddamn whore, it was true! But Slade didn’t need to know that._

_Oliver’s hands curled into fists at his side as he wasn’t sure what else to do with them. He couldn’t act like he was enjoying this_ too _much. It was getting difficult to think straight though when he was just waiting for Slade to manhandle his cock out of his pants and properly get him off._

_He wasn’t even fully hard yet and already his body was alive with sensation beneath Slade’s touch._

_A growl left Oliver as he gritted his teeth._

_“Are you going to keep me waiting forever, old man?” Oliver asked, his words coming out deeper than usual with his vocal changer active._

_A rumble merely left Slade in response, before Slade’s left fingers then slid up and under the back of his mask, removing it from his face. The mask clattered noisily to the rooftop and Oliver’s breathing ceased and hitched in his throat at the look on Slade’s face._

_His Alpha grinned, showing all teeth and Slade’s brows hung lowly over heavy-lidded, dark eyes._

_Raising his left hand to his mouth, Slade’s teeth grabbed the top of his glove before the Alpha slid the fabric up off his hand. Slade then let the glove drop out from between his teeth where it joined his other one and helmet on the ground._

_At no point did Slade’s right hand leave its place from over the front of Oliver’s pants, stroking and fondling the Omega’s dick through a layer of clothing._

_Smirking, Slade let out a sort of half-hum, half-growl that sounded to Oliver like an approval._

_“It’s about time you got some payback, don’t you think, kid?” Slade posed the question, leaning in closer to his Omega._

_Oliver’s body remained practically immobile as Slade’s stubbled cheek stroked over his own, the Alpha’s palm immediately tightening around his length which caused Oliver to gasp._

_Hot breath ghosted over the side of Oliver’s face, Slade’s lips ever so slightly caressing his ear._

_“F-f—” Oliver started._

Fuck me.

_But the noise died in his throat as a strangled, only half-concealed whine left him instead._

Damn it, _Oliver mentally cursed to himself as he dug gloved fingers into his palms, painfully. He wasn’t supposed to be acting like he enjoyed this. ‘Wasn’t supposed to be letting Slade know just how much he turned him on. And yet, his own body betrayed him when it came to that matter._

_Oliver let out a huff of annoyance._

_He was completely and utterly at Slade’s mercy right now, and he couldn’t even feign disinterest._

_After a moment, Oliver tried to_ actually _speak again._

_Only the joints in his legs locked rigidly beneath him were keeping Oliver from falling forward onto Slade. He wanted to grind his dick up against Slade’s, though a small part of Oliver was still wondering as to what his Alpha’s game was._

_“For what?” Oliver finally managed to ask._

_What was he getting payback for? Payback was not a word Oliver associated with good things in his world. Especially not having a hand nearly fully wrapped around his dick, getting him thick and firm, good._

_Once again Slade let out a low laugh, pulling back from the Omega so he could meet Oliver’s eyes._

_Despite the mask over Oliver’s face, he still felt like Slade’s dark brown eyes were boring directly into his soul._

_“Well, you did ask to be paid back for that handy you gave me, kid,” Slade responded, an almost mad grin that showed all teeth present on his face._

_A shiver ran down Oliver’s spine at his Alpha’s words._

_This is the moment he’s been waiting for…_

Love me Slade, fuck me.

_Oliver found himself nodding at the prospect—no, the intent—behind Slade’s words._

_At this point, Oliver was beginning to care less and less about whether Slade thought he was a whore or not. What did it matter, his Alpha loved him anyway._

_As Slade’s left, free hand slid over the small of Oliver’s back, the Alpha let out a low rumble._

_One hand remained clasped around Oliver’s cock but Slade’s other hand lingered over Oliver’s spine for a moment before the Alpha’s hand drifted downwards. His fingers settled over the right side of Oliver’s ass as his thumb slipped beneath the Omega’s pants and boxer-briefs._

_Heat emanated from Oliver’s body as he shivered under Slade’s hands._

_He leaned forward towards Slade, his eyes sliding shut as he sought out his Alpha’s mouth._

_A small yelp left Oliver however, his eyes snapping back open as Slade’s palm slapped firmly over his right ass cheek._

_Slade’s fingers curled into the flesh of his ass and Oliver could only meekly stare back at his Alpha’s intense, dark gaze. His body trembled beneath Slade’s touch—he relished it even—but the Omega found himself at a loss for words and an inability to feel like he could even move of his own free will anymore._

_When he wasn’t in heat—’didn’t have the luxury of that excuse—it was hard not to feel embarrassed by how turned on Slade got him. Usually, Oliver was never coy when it came to intimate acts but it was difficult to admit what he wanted and to reveal his feelings to Slade._

_He’d been intimate with guys and girls of pretty much every dynamic before, but no one turned him on quite like Slade did. Maybe it was the prospect of getting fucked that he liked, though Oliver didn’t think he could ever admit that to another soul._

_He wanted an entire Bond with Slade, though that could only happen and be formed when he was in heat. An entire Bond between himself and Slade would be him making the declaration that he never wanted to leave the Alpha._

_“Hands and knees, kid,” Slade said suddenly, drawing Oliver’s mind back to the present._

_From the tone of Slade’s voice and the expression on the Alpha’s face, Oliver knew his Alpha was hardly making a request. Slade was clearly also unaware of the thoughts whirring around Oliver’s mind._

_“I wanna see that ass of yours.”_

_As if to emphasise his point, Slade then spanked his hand over the bottom of Oliver’s ass and thigh._

_This time, Oliver didn’t yelp, but he did find his body—mainly his dick—arching forward into Slade’s touch when the older man spanked him._

_Slade grinned, even as Oliver found himself breaking away from his Alpha’s embrace. Almost like he was trying to avoid Slade’s dark, entrancing gaze and hide his body’s actions from Slade._

_Though clearly the former wasn’t the case, as swiftly Oliver found himself obeying Slade’s words, even as he still wasn’t quite sure as to what he was doing._

_Oliver slung his bow and quiver off his back, allowing them to fall to the ground, before he dropped onto his knees facing the opposite direction from Slade. His hands kissed the ground shortly afterwards as Oliver found himself staring at the concrete._

_Tightness radiated throughout his body, his spine like a steel rod in his back, despite the tingling, warm feeling running through his dick and abdomen._

_Slade was making him nervous, and Oliver couldn’t quite lose himself yet in his body’s pleasure. Why couldn’t the older man just fuck him, no qualms about it already!_

_Gingerly, Oliver threw a look over his shoulder, seeking out his Alpha, only to find the older man settling down onto his haunches behind him._

_Oliver flinched at Slade’s hand squeezing over his shoulder, the older man’s other hand then sliding beneath Oliver’s waistband, pressing back over his ass._

_A shiver wracked Oliver’s body, possibly from the chill in the night air, or more likely from Slade digging his fingers into Oliver’s right ass cheek._

_The Alpha’s hand on his shoulder flipped Oliver’s hood down._

_For a brief moment, Oliver worried over the possibility of his identity as the Arrow being revealed to the world before just thinking to himself_ fuck it. _It was dark and they were atop a relatively tall building. No one would see them._

_He was silent and still as Slade draped his own body over top of him, though the Alpha continued to support his own weight. A stubbled cheek prickled over his own, the Alpha letting out a deep chuckle in his ear._

_“You were so eager last time we did this, kid,” Slade practically purred. “What happened to all that?”_

_Oliver grimaced yet remained quiet._

_Maybe the fact that he’d been in heat last time had made this easier for him. Made it easier for him to forget whatever inhibitions he had and how this was somewhat embarrassing._

_Slade doesn’t seem to mind his lack of an answer though as the Alpha’s hand that had previously lingered over his shoulder then drifted round to Oliver’s front. The Alpha’s fingers found the zipper to Oliver’s hood, dragging it downwards before Slade’s palm then slid freely inside Oliver’s jacket._

_No doubt the Alpha noticed the shirt beneath Oliver’s hood that usually wasn’t there in the warmer months as he palmed his hand over Oliver’s chest. Warmth emanated from Slade’s hand as his fingers traced over Oliver’s torso._

_The sound of a light beep going off signalled to Oliver that the Alpha had just disabled his vocal changer. Slade’s hand then withdrew from within Oliver’s clothing._

_Both of Slade’s palms re-settled over Oliver’s ass and the Omega could tell Slade had re-seated himself behind him on his haunches._

_Oliver couldn’t help shuddering in anticipation._

_A low laugh left Slade as he begun to stroke his thumbs over the sides of Oliver’s thighs._

_“Settle petal,” Slade cooed, half-mockingly. “Would it make you more comfortable if I stuck a $100 in your pocket?”_

Did Slade just call me a prostitute, _Oliver thought to himself._

_Immediately, Oliver growled, flicking a glare back towards Slade to which the Alpha merely grinned at._

_After a moment of holding Slade’s gaze, Oliver found himself staring back at the concrete between his hands, deflated._

_His balls and dick were tight and his boxer-briefs had started to get uncomfortably small around his cock that was awkwardly positioned to the side of his thigh. And his Alpha still hadn’t done anything about it yet!_

_He wanted to snap and have a go at Slade for likening him to a prostitute but Oliver knew he’d possibly only delay the Alpha from getting him off. Which was the last thing Oliver wanted right now._

_“‘Make it a grand,” Oliver eventually let out with a sigh._

_If Slade was going to imply he was a whore, Oliver would at least like to be an expensive one._

_Slade’s right hand smacked over the side of Oliver’s ass which the Omega could only groan at. Could Slade stop playing with his ass now and just get to the part where he got him off?_

_“Too bad, kid, I ain’t got nothin’ on me. And even if I did, they stopped printing $1000 bills in the ‘60s,” Slade stated smugly._

_Oliver growled for a moment before falling silent again, waiting._

_The Alpha must have got the picture as Slade’s hands were then on the inside of Oliver’s thighs, pressing the Omega’s legs open further. As Slade was spreading his legs—really probably more like spreading his ass, Oliver thought to himself—the Alpha’s fingers grazed over the side of Oliver’s dick and balls, causing the Omega to shudder and let out a small moan._

_Almost instantly, Oliver’s legs shook beneath him and if it weren’t for his knees already being planted on the ground, he thought they would have collapsed from underneath him._

_A chuckle escaped Slade, no doubt at Oliver’s body’s involuntary actions._

_Cold air bit in through Oliver’s clothing, particularly around his ass and dick, which made the Omega even more intensely aware of his cock jutting against the inside of his thigh. He couldn’t even really attempt to wrestle his cock out of his pants or stroke it without potentially falling over in his current position. But then again, getting him off was Slade’s job, wasn’t it?_

_Slade was just taking his damn time about it._

_As if Slade had just been able to read his thoughts, the Alpha then dug his fingers into both sides of Oliver’s ass._

_Oliver actually yelped at this, the Alpha’s fingers kneading into his flesh. He shot a glare back at Slade, the older man’s hands still putting pressure on his ass._

_“Shut it, kid. That didn’t hurt,” Slade scoffed, rolling his eyes._

_The Omega continued to glare at his Alpha up until the point where Slade released his hold on his ass. Slade’s fingers slipped beneath Oliver’s pants and then the Omega’s boxer-briefs before the Alpha then began to tug them downwards from Oliver’s hips._

_Averting his gaze from Slade once more, Oliver looked back down at his hands as he steadied himself, locking his elbows beneath him._

_Quickly but gingerly, Slade got Oliver’s clothing pooling around the Omega’s knees._

_Oliver was positively relieved when his cock sprang free of its clothing confines, now thick and curled up against his abdomen. His dick and body still ached, but now it was only for pleasure rather than the fact that he was in discomfort._

_After a moment, Slade’s hands returned to Oliver’s ass. They were warm against Oliver’s flesh that had just been bared to the winter air and Oliver shuddered beneath his Alpha’s touch._

_“‘Do you want this, kid?” Slade asked._

_“Yes…” Oliver answered, only his voice came out as a pained whine._

_His whine quickly escalated into a shuddery moan as Slade’s thumb brushed over his entrance._

_“Then you gotta gimme something more to work with here, kid,” Slade said, his thumb now rubbing over Oliver’s hole to which the Omega could only shudder at. “You ain’t on suppressants anymore so you got no more excuses for not producing enough slick.”_

_Oliver’s arms and legs nearly buckled beneath him as Slade’s other fingers began to stroke over his perineum, just ever so slightly grazing over his balls. The Omega buried his teeth into his bottom lip to keep from voicing his cries._

_It wasn’t exactly easy for Oliver to get himself slick when he wasn’t in heat. One couldn’t really make a conscious effect to produce natural lubricant either. All Slade’s fingers trailing over his entrance, perineum, and balls was doing was leaving Oliver tingly all over, every nerve in his body on fire. But, Oliver was no more slick than he was before._

_It felt good… but his entrance quivered and his balls still ached for Slade to damn hurry up already._

_“Fuck me,” Oliver groaned, after several moments of Slade just thumbing his hole._

_“In time, kid,” Slade growled lowly, before the Alpha then slowly slid his thumb inside Oliver._

_Oliver’s whole body seized and tensed up around Slade’s finger inside him._

_Slade let out a low growl of approval, no doubt at what Oliver felt like was the beginning of slick starting to glide out of him._

_Part of Slade was inside him and the Omega could feel that throughout his entire body._

_“Ah fuck,” Oliver cursed at what felt like Slade’s thumb burrowing deeper inside his wet passage._

_He hadn't felt that distinct jolt of pleasure surge through his body yet that the Omega felt when something brushed over his prostate or secondary tract, but he figured Slade’s thumb had to be fully inside him now._

_The Alpha’s digit glided out of him before Slade slid it back inside him, quicker and easier this time due to Oliver’s natural lubricant._

_A shuddery gasp left Oliver._

_His cock twitched, begging to be touched, but Oliver ignored it, focusing only on the pleasure Slade brought him._

_Oh it felt good though…_

_One of the Alpha’s hands was still clawed into his ass while Slade’s other hand tickled the underside of Oliver’s perineum, the Alpha’s thumb still working the Omega’s entrance open._

_Slade snorted, which caused Oliver to blink his eyes open. He hadn’t realised they’d grown half-lidded in his pleasure._

_Warmth burned in Oliver’s cheeks and he kept his gaze averted from Slade’s, not wanting his Alpha to see the blush that was no doubt on his face._

_“You’re still such a tight arse, but at least you’re slick. We can work on both those things though.”_

_Instantly, Slade withdrew his thumb from within Oliver before two fingers returned to the Omega’s hole in its place._

_Oliver’s spine was coiled together and rigid like a spring but his elbows and knees shook beneath him. He nearly wanted to collapse but managed to rock back on his haunches instead, attempting to impale himself on Slade’s fingers more._

_Pleasure shot up Oliver’s spine like wildfire as he felt Slade’s fingers nudge over that sweet spot inside him. That was either his prostate or his secondary tract._

_Regardless, Slade’s fingers thrusting up inside of him left Oliver feeling slicker and fuller than before, the Omega angling his hips downward as much as possible to allow Slade easier access._

_His Alpha growled, breaking the relative silence that had fallen over them. Only the occasional low sound of approval from Slade and uncontrollable moan from Oliver filled the silence between them as Slade continued stretching Oliver’s hole._

_A third finger of Slade’s then joined the other two inside Oliver. The Omega grunted._

_Slade’s fingers were definitely jammed up near his prostate now, and the slightest movement on his or Slade’s part had his body burning. Pleasure crashed over Oliver’s body in waves._

_He could barely think, only focusing on how it felt as Slade’s fingers massaged his prostate and making sure his elbows and knees remained stable beneath him. Any sounds that left him were unintelligible.._

_Oliver found that stimulation to his prostate or secondary tract felt similar to touching the underside of his dick, where the shaft meets the head. Only it was so much harder to reach that sweet spot inside of himself and that made the euphoria it brought him so much more unique, so much better._

_Three fingers… those three fingers of Slade’s inside of him currently were probably about the width of the Alpha’s cock. Or maybe the Alpha’s cock was thicker. It was definitely longer than the man’s fingers._

_All of this, Slade finger-fucking him, was definitely just preparation for the main event. Though Slade’s fingers were still thicker than his own and accordingly they filled him up more._

_Having Slade play with him was so much better than just playing with himself._

_Fluid had languidly began to leak down Oliver’s cock._

_Sweat started to bead at his forehead but Oliver’s body shivered and he felt the beginnings of goosebumps start to grow up his flesh._

_His cock felt so firm and good. He wanted Slade to wrap his fist around him and get him off, but his hole felt so good too..._

_“Give it to me, Slade. Gimme more,” Oliver panted._

_He even glanced back towards his Alpha, despite knowing how pathetic he must have looked. What with him being on his hands and knees, clad in his Arrow attire, with slick trickling out of him around Slade’s fingers and all Oliver could think about was how he wanted his Alpha’s cock._

_But, Oliver figured at this point, he wasn’t above begging if that’s what it was going to take._

_Slade let out a growl as he finally met Oliver’s meek gaze._

_The Alpha grinned before slowing withdrawing his fingers from inside Oliver._

_Oliver couldn’t contain his whine as his whole body seized up, his hole clenching, wanting to hold onto Slade’s digits inside him._

_Slick coated Slade’s fingers when the Alpha finally pulled them free of Oliver._

_Confusion riddled Oliver’s face as he just stared at his Alpha._

_His cock ached and his body trembled, waiting for Slade to finally grant him release._

_A chuckle left Slade as the older man crawled up beside Oliver._

_Dark eyes bored into Oliver’s own as Slade’s hand curled around the Omega’s chin._

_“See, if you wanted anything more like getting rimmed kid, you should have given me a blowjob back then. Equal exchange and all that,” Slade purred, stroking his thumb over Oliver’s hairline._

_Fluid dripped from Oliver’s cock and hole._

_The Omega let out a huff, his brows knitting together as best they could whilst aching_ need _was still written all over Oliver’s face._

Bastard, _Oliver mentally cursed his Alpha._

_“Don’t I get to collect interest for being made to wait so long?” Oliver asked._

_He was teetering on the edge of release and he just needed Slade to push him over now._

_Suddenly, Slade snatched his hand away from Oliver’s face._

_“Collect your interest later, kid,” Slade smirked, the Alpha getting to his feet and walking away from Oliver._

_Oliver’s head hit the concrete as his hands and knees finally collapsed out from underneath him._

xxxxxxxx

Oliver shuddered awake in bed, letting out a sound that was a half-groan, half-moan. He was immediately aware of his cock jutting up towards his stomach… just like it had been in his dream.

The Omega dragged a sweaty palm down over his face, letting out a low sound of annoyance. A thin sheen of sweat covered Oliver’s body, causing the Omega to shiver from the cold even as the electric blanket over his mattress burned beneath him.

His dick was curled up towards his abs practically begging to be stroked and just touched.

However, _‘Slade’_ had gotten him all worked up and put him on the edge before just proceeding to leave his cock alone—no chance of a quick orgasm—in favour of playing with his ass. But of course, Oliver probably enjoyed a finger-fucking more though if he had to choose between the two...

A growl left Oliver as his hands fisted into his blanket.

How dare Slade leave him like this, even if it was just a dream. The old man probably wasn’t above doing shit like that in real life either. ‘Probably payback for how long it took him to want to put out to Slade.

_What time is it?_ Oliver mentally groaned to himself, turning over in bed.

He was acutely aware of his cock throbbing in his pants and heat pooling in his stomach, but the Omega managed to ignore his body’s betrayal of him as he fumbled for his phone on his bedside table.

Just because he was turned on didn’t meant he couldn’t be irritated and a little bit embarrassed with himself for having sexual dreams about Slade.

If it was close to dawn, Oliver would just get up, have a cold shower, and hopefully that would settle his body down without the Omega actually having to stoop to masturbating. He couldn’t quite tell what time it was based off the darkness still shrouding his room.

Finally digging his phone out of his bedside drawer, Oliver checked the device for the time.

_12:35 AM_. Tuesday morning.

With a groan, Oliver dropped his phone back on the bedside table before he flopped back down in bed. He’d only been asleep for an hour or two. And he was already awake again.

_Uhh_ , Oliver’s body shuddered at just the thought of it.

What a ridiculously vivid dream. ‘Definitely the most vivid one he could remember having so far. He needed to stop having these wet dreams about Slade, even though he’d been having them for weeks and they probably weren’t going to cease any time soon.

It had been a dream at least, which was sort of a relief in one way. There was no way Oliver, clad in Arrow gear, would get down on his hands and knees atop a public building and let Slade finger-fuck him.

His cock twitched and all the nerve endings in his ass felt like they came alive just remembering how well his dream imitated the feeling of Slade’s digits actually inside him.

_Fuck_ , Oliver cursed to himself as he managed to still his body.

Is he in heat or going to be? Better damn not be.

A low growl left the Omega as he scowled. Prior to going into heat, he’d had hyper-sexual dreams before. There was typically one good way to find out if he was going into heat.

Oliver sat up in bed, his legs splayed to either side of him.

For an Omega male with probably a lot more testosterone than estrogen, he pretty much only produced slick when he was in heat or actually touching himself down there. Near his thighs and cock, he was already a bit hot and sweaty, but that was a given though when Oliver considered the fact that he’d woken up horny.

He’d just have to touch himself to know for sure whether he was slick and actually going into heat or not.

Shoving his hand down the back of his sweatpants, Oliver lifted his ass slightly, seeking out his entrance. As Oliver’s fingertips brushed over his hole, the Omega breathed a morbid sigh of relief.

Nope, not slick, so that was as good an indicator as any to Oliver that he wasn’t going into heat any time soon. Though Oliver’s digits quickly felt like they became moist brushing over his hole.

That didn’t count though, Oliver thought to himself as he dug his now sticky fingers out of his boxer-briefs. Ever since going off his suppressants Oliver found if he fingered himself, he’d produce natural lubricant rather easily.

Oliver flopped back down on his stomach in bed, not quite caring for if he was putting pressure on and making his cock feel uncomfortable, just shoving it down into the mattress. He didn’t really feel like masturbating… despite how rigid and tingly his cock felt, that shuddering feeling from his erection still radiating up into and throughout the rest of his body.

Not when he’d recently found out how much better it was to stick things up his ass.

_Oh my god..._

The Omega wanted to smack himself at his inability to keep his mind out of the gutter for just five minutes, but settled for instead burying his face into his pillow.

He didn’t even have the excuse of that he was going into heat to blame for how lustful his thoughts were.

When would he go into heat anyway, Oliver wondered. It’d been… 37 days since he last went into heat (and Oliver only knew this because he tracked the days of his heats and estimated next ones vigilantly). It had also been something like 24 days ago too since he’d last taken a suppressant. So he’d gone over a month without going into heat, which somehow seemed a little too good to be true to Oliver as of recently.

Having been on suppressants for months since coming back to Starling City, then becoming pseudo-Bonded to Slade, then stopping his suppressants altogether had likely thrown his body’s cycle all outta whack. He could have months or just days left before he went into heat again. Somehow Oliver was willing to bet it was more likely the latter.

As if on cue, another shudder then raced up Oliver’s spine, eliciting a moan from the Omega.

_Fuck it,_ Oliver decided, flipping over onto his back and starting to wrestle his pants and boxer-briefs down his legs.

_Fuck me._

There was no shame in _not_ denying himself release.

When the Omega had dragged his clothing down to his ankles, Oliver collapsed back onto his bed.

He had meant what he told Slade a couple weeks back. _I’m fucking tight, Slade. I hate it. I can’t get myself off, not how I want to._ And accordingly, since that time, Oliver had masturbated. A lot. Or rather, more specifically, he’d wank himself off _and_ fuck himself with his fingers. Because since discovering what having sex and getting knotted by an Alpha was like, Oliver found simply masturbating was way less pleasurable and fulfilling.

Before Slade had re-entered his life, Oliver had found himself mainly just getting himself off to relieve stress. Now, Oliver found himself regularly sticking his digits up inside himself thinking about Slade.

The problem was, Oliver found, unlike masturbating, actually getting himself to orgasm from fingering himself only worked if he was sitting in the shower of laying in bed in _just_ the right position. Even then, Oliver found it took him awhile to achieve an orgasm. It was hard to find that pleasureable spot inside of him. Oliver supposed this is why people probably got dildos. Or better yet, this is why he should be getting _Slade_ to do these things for him.

With a grimace, Oliver decided to just stick his finger inside his hole, ignoring his cock that was still rock hard and jutting upwards.

Sweat and natural lubricant still sluiced freely around his entrance so Oliver found his digit slid in easily up to his second knuckle.

A smile graced Oliver’s face, even as there was no euphoric pleasure from simply getting his finger inside himself. Even with fingers as skilled as his own from years of having them in vaginas, asses, and around the occasional dick, his fingers still weren’t skilled enough to give him any sort of quick relief.

Masturbating, easy.

Finger-fucking himself, a pain in the ass. But not literally.

He can get up to three fingers in himself, which was what Oliver was going to consider his limit. That _and_ Slade’s dick.

Slowly, Oliver began to move his digit in and then back out of himself, hoping to loosen himself up as much as possible. The muscles inside him burned slightly at the intrusion but Oliver found it was a familiar, almost welcome sensation now.

His toes curled together and Oliver’s eyes slid shut as his finger brushed over his wet hole. He breathed in and out slowly before attempting to slip two fingers in there.

Oliver’s aching cock was definitely still a distraction though the Omega hardly paid it any mind as his entrance clenched tightly around his fingers. While his right hand worked his entrance, Oliver dug the nails on his left hand into his upper thigh. It helped him keep that hand away from his cock.

Warmth started to radiate from within him along with pleasure as Oliver massaged his fingers over what had to be his prostate.

He is just about to attempt shoving a third digit inside himself when the sound of a small vibration caused Oliver’s eyes to snap open.

Immediately, Oliver looked over at his bedside table where his phone sat. He could make out on the screen that there was a text from Slade there.

_Great,_ Oliver mentally sighed to himself as he quickly slid his fingers out from his entrance.

_Here Slade is likely having nightmares while I’m too busy dreaming about how much I wanna get fucked by him._

A twang of guilt stabbed at Oliver’s heart as the Omega’s mouth formed a thin line.

Usually Slade didn’t text him this late unless he did have a problem… And while Slade was usually reluctant to admit to Oliver that he’d had a nightmare, Oliver always knew that was the case.

Swiftly, Oliver pulled his sweatpants and boxer-briefs back over his hips even as his cock twitched and his balls were starting to ache. He’d just have to deal with that discomfort, seeing as there was no chance of him getting himself off now.

Grabbing his phone off his bedside table, Oliver read the text there from his Alpha.

**Slade:** **_Hey kid, you awake?_ **

He quickly typed back a response to his Alpha.

**_Do you want me to come over?_ **

Despite already knowing the answer to his question, Oliver still asked it. Him popping out for the night was far and away easier to explain to his mom and Thea than Slade potentially getting seen at his house at this hour.

When Oliver’s phone vibrated again in his hand, the text from his Alpha simply read:

**_Yes._ **

Getting up out of bed, Oliver only bothered to throw a jacket on over his T-shirt before heading downstairs to his bike.

xxxxxxxx

By the time Oliver had driven to Slade’s place, he was significantly less turned on than he was when he first woke up from his horny dream. Which most likely had to do with the fact that the cool winter air outside, that had battered at Oliver’s skin as he rode his bike, felt like it had frozen his balls off.

The former was helpful, really, as when Oliver stood outside the door to his Alpha’s apartment the Omega was no longer thinking about how much he’d like to have sex with the older man _right now_. As Oliver went to knock, the door swung open.

Slade was standing before him, the Alpha just in his boxer-briefs with an unreadable look on his face. Underlying the heavy musk of Slade’s Alpha scent, Oliver could smell something bitter and sour, no doubt sweat clinging to Slade.

Oliver couldn’t keep his eyes from sliding over Slade’s naked skin, picking out the tenseness in the Alpha’s frame, visible in every muscle in his arms and chest.

Without warning, Slade was suddenly in Oliver’s face, the Alpha’s arms snaking around Oliver like an iron prison.

A small sound of surprise left Oliver as Slade pulled him into a tight embrace, the Omega caught off guard while he was still _s_ taring at… his Alpha’s body. So much for him not being _totally_ horny any more. Yet Oliver managed to remain still as Slade burrowed his face into his throat, the Alpha no doubt likely scenting him.

Slade’s arms wrapped around him were trapping his own and Oliver could tell with the older man this close to him that Slade’s skin was indeed sticky from sweat. With his chest pressed up tightly against Slade’s, he could feel the older man’s heart hammering away like a drum.

Both of Oliver’s hands flexed at his sides though he couldn’t hug his Alpha back in this position. Instead, Oliver settled his hands above either sides of Slade’s waist.

His Alpha definitely had a nightmare, or had been hallucinating. One of the two.

Oliver knew that Slade needed him here right now, though it was the last thing the Alpha wanted.

Only recently had Oliver started to notice it but Slade put classical music on during the nights and left it on while he went to bed. Often times the music was just instrumentals and when Oliver had questioned Slade’s taste in music once upon coming over late at night and hearing it, the Alpha had merely claimed it helped him sleep.

The smell of incense hung in the air. At first the smell had confused Oliver but without even having to ask Slade about it, Oliver quickly realised it smelled like _him_. It was vanilla and Slade burned it mainly in his bedroom.

“Hey,” Oliver finally greeted his Alpha. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

He always asked the question, even though the Omega always knew what the answer was going to be.

“No,” came Slade’s swift reply.

Hot breath ghosted over Oliver’s ear.

“Bed,” Slade said gruffly, pulling back from Oliver and then releasing him.

Oliver nodded even as Slade quickly averted his gaze from him, the Alpha turning on his heel and retreating into the darkness of his apartment.

Following his Alpha, Oliver threw his jacket off in the bedroom, not caring where it landed, before re-seeking out his Alpha’s gaze.

Slade was standing on the other side of the bed, watching him intensely, rigid like a statue.

“You wanna sleep on your back and I'll sleep on my stomach,” Oliver offered.

The Omega knew the drill by now. It was either this or Slade would pull him into an inescapable bear hug that Oliver would be forced to stay in until the older man calmed down. At least on his stomach Oliver had a little more breathing room.

“Fine,” Slade sighed, flopping down onto the bed.

Oliver then collapsed onto the mattress, the Omega wriggling under the covers and into position beside his Alpha. While Slade lay on his back, Oliver slid in beside him, the Omega’s head nestling into the crook of Slade’s neck and his hand sitting over Slade’s sternum. Over his heart.

After a moment of Oliver getting himself comfortable, Slade’s right arm swooped up and over Oliver’s back, the Alpha’s hand finally lingering over Oliver’s neck.

They are both quiet. Only Slade’s breathing slowly evening out broke the silence that lingered over them.

Stroking his hand over Slade’s sternum, Oliver waited to see if the older man would say anything or simply fall asleep. The all too fast rise and fall of Slade’s chest beneath his palm indicated to Oliver that the Alpha was still awake.

An eternity seemed to pass between them before Slade finally spoke.

“Thanks kid,” Slade said softly.

“Shh, shut up and go to sleep old man,” Oliver retorted, letting his eyes flutter shut.


	17. Black and Green I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to Alasmylove on archiveofourown for pre-reading this chapter!

It was after ten when Oliver found himself and Slade going their separate ways for the evening, but for only a short amount of time. After spending last night—or rather the early hours of this morning—at Slade’s, the Omega had already decided he’d just offer to fall into the Alpha’s bed again tonight.

He didn’t like it when Slade had nightmares.

Oliver had given Slade the option of them doing dinner together at Slade’s after they’d finished patrol. Only first Oliver wanted to swing by Verdant to change into regular clothes before heading to Slade’s.

Slade had snorted at Oliver’s suggestion, stating that he didn’t need Oliver to come round… but that the Omega was welcome to come over if he wanted. The Alpha’s _mostly_ brash retort had pleased Oliver. Clearly his presence in Slade’s bed at night helped the older man more than Slade cared to admit aloud.

So, Oliver found himself making his way back to Verdant.

His Alpha’s presence and scent left him feeling a bit wound up, though not mind boggling horny so he could still think straight around the older man.

He was just about to jump down into the alleyway next to Verdant when he spotted someone carrying a crate—presumably full of supplies for the club—there. It was Roy, the young Beta dressed in a black Verdant uniform.

At precisely that moment—before Oliver could decide if he wanted to avoid Roy or not—Roy looked up.

Roy almost looked like he dropped the crate he was carrying and had to scramble to re-right it in his hands.

“Oh my god, you’re here!” the Beta exclaimed.

“What?” Oliver asked, his voice deep and stern thanks to the modulator on his throat.

“I need your help,” Roy started, dropping his gaze to the ground and a sense of worry creeping into his voice.

In the dark, Oliver couldn’t quite see what emotions Roy’s eyes hid but the Omega already knew he didn’t like this.

“I know you said we were done, but this is serious.”

Seemingly of their own accord, Oliver’s eyes slid over the alleyway and he noticed the red trick arrow of his that he’d allowed Roy to keep embedded into the alleyway wall.

A pang of guilt stabbed Oliver in the chest. The last time Roy had come to him for help had been when a friend of Roy’s friend had been injected with the Mirakuru and was found dead. Oliver knew Roy’s request for help likely didn’t have anything to do with that friend of Roy’s that have been killed but inside Oliver still cringed. Even though he and Slade had settled their differences, Oliver would likely still feel and notice the effects the bad blood between them had on everyone else for a while to come.

“How’s your knee?” Oliver asked, wanting to distract his mind from the unwelcome turn it had taken.

It’d been over two months since Oliver had shot and then pulled his arrow out of Roy’s knee. He hadn’t paid much attention to Roy since then—considering Slade had been distracting and occupying most of the Omega’s mind— but the Beta looked to be walking without pain though might have had a slight limp. The Omega imagined Roy must have been to the hospital after he’d pulled his arrow out of him and Dig had tended to the Beta’s wound.

Swiftly, the Omega jumped down from his rooftop position onto a nearby dumpster before dropping down onto the ground in front of Roy.

Even though it was pitch black outside, Oliver held his head angled towards the ground and kept his distance from the young Beta. Roy had seen Oliver Queen’s face plenty up-close and could easily recognise him if Oliver got nearer.

“Good,” Roy responded with a nod. “Y’know… considering I took an arrow in the knee.”

There was no bite to the Beta’s tone of voice, but Oliver remained silent at Roy’s words, wanting to know where this was going.

After a moment, Roy shook his head at him.

“What? That’s not funny?” Roy asked, quirking an eyebrow back at Oliver.

Oliver had to refrain from letting out a low growl. Roy was now beginning to hold him up and Oliver was eager to meet his Alpha for dinner shortly.

“You should play _Skyrim_ every once in awhile, it’d be right up your alley.”

The Omega blinked at the Beta’s words. He must have been talking about a game or something else Oliver likely hadn’t cared enough to notice since coming back to Starling City.

“ _Look_ ,” Oliver began firmly, “I’m not going to apologise for keeping you safe when it needed to be done.”

Though admittedly shooting Roy in the knee had likely been a bit hasty on his part, Oliver had been irritated and going into heat at the time so he didn’t feel too bad about it.

“What you came to me about last time—what the cops thought to be your friend overdosing—it’s been handled. ‘Don’t go looking for trouble,” Oliver finished gruffly.

“No forgiven. Totally forgiven...” Roy says, likely referring to Oliver having shot him. If Roy hadn’t still been holding the crate in his hands, Oliver imagined the Beta might have held his hands up at him perhaps in a sign of mock surrender. “If you help me right now.”

Oliver nodded for the Beta to continue. Regardless of whether Roy forgave him for shooting him or not, Oliver wouldn’t turn down the Beta’s plea for help.

“My friend, S-Sin,” Roy started, his voice quaking slightly. “I think she’s been kidnapped.”

xxxxxxxx

“We have a problem,” Oliver stated as he walked into Verdant.

Swinging the door shut behind him, Oliver shrugged his hood off.

Felicity, who had been sitting in front of her computer, spun languidly around on her chair to greet him.

“It’s not you and Slade again, is it?” Felicity asked, poking a capped pen into the side of her cheek as she raised an eyebrow at the Omega.

Diggle then appeared next to the Beta and seemed to give Felicity a look at the same time Oliver did.

The Beta merely shrugged and raised her hands at the joint stares she garnered from both males.

Oliver dismissed her comment. Clearly Felicity made it jovially, in a light-hearted manner—whereas in the past those same words would have been intended for roasting Oliver—but the Omega wasn’t in the mood to indulge in joking.

“No,” Oliver sighed, shaking his head. “I just saw Roy outside. He thinks a friend of his has been kidnapped. She’s an Omega living in the Glades. He saw her yesterday, but this morning when he went by her place, she wasn’t there but her phone was. Roy doesn’t think it’s like Sin to just leave her phone at home. Roy says it looks like there were signs of forced entry. He thinks she was taken by sex traffickers.”

“Sex trafficking? In the Glades? Really?” Dig queried, his eyes narrowing.

Oliver merely grimaced at the Alpha’s skepticism, crossing his arms over his chest. He didn’t have the time or energy to want to brief Diggle and Felicity on the multiple issues in the Glades and what he’d seen there over the years.

From Oliver’s expression, Dig appeared to realise that Oliver was being serious, the Alpha’s face loosening into what the Omega imagined was morbid acknowledgement.

“Okay, maybe you’ve seen more of that side of town than I have,” Dig added.

“She’s an Omega, probably about Roy’s age,” Oliver continued as Felicity and Dig fell silent around him. “People in the Glades are desperate. If there’s money in it, they’ll do it.”

For a moment everyone was quiet, looking to be processing Oliver’s words until Felicity spoke up.

“So, what’s the plan?” Felicity asked.

Letting out another sigh, Oliver scratched his fingers over his left wrist. Even if Dig and Felicity were dubious about the idea of sex traffickers in the Glades, Oliver believed Roy’s words and shared the young Beta’s concerns for Sin.

“I need you both here for the moment,” Oliver stated, addressing his friends as he tried to clear all other unwelcome thoughts out of his mind. “This could be nothing… Or it could be something.”

Felicity let out a small humming noise while Dig nodded, both signalling their acquiescence to Oliver that this was something they’d need look into.

However, Oliver still found himself rooted to the spot as another thought edged its way to the forefront of his mind. He could feel Diggle and Felicity’s eyes on him but his friends knew better than to try and break Oliver’s focus at a time like this.

Oliver had just remembered his intention to head back to Slade’s for the night. _Date with Slade certainly ruined._

Getting his phone out of his pocket, Oliver decided he’d better call the older man to inform him what was happening.

Slade picked up almost instantly, no doubt possibly awaiting Oliver’s arrival at his place, but Oliver cut his Alpha off before Slade could say anything.

“Hey Slade, we may need to reschedule dinner. I need a favour.”

xxxxxxxx

Slade met Oliver at the usual rooftop location in the Glades.

A chill in the air bit through Oliver’s clothing and it made the Omega relish the thought that spring was just around the corner.

Footfalls behind the Omega alerted him of his Alpha’s presence and Oliver turned to meet him. At least Slade had gotten changed back into his suit and equipment and gotten here relatively fast.

“Do pray tell what my beautiful Omega wants?” Slade rumbled lowly once Oliver had laid eyes upon him. Which was possibly a sign that Slade had been irritated by Oliver bailing on their dinner and then giving him scant details over the phone, the Omega just needing Slade to hurry up and get here already.

Oliver growled in response. “You can track by scent, right?” he asked, wanting to get down to business.

His right hand twitched for his bow that was still slung over his back.

“Obviously,” Slade deadpanned with a _tsking_ noise, as if reminding Oliver of all the times he’d tracked down and followed the Omega by scent.

As Slade trotted up beside Oliver, the Omega began to brief Slade on the situation, relaying to Slade what he’d told Diggle and Felicity of the presumably abducted young Omega female. Oliver also made sure to respray Slade with a portable can of scent neutraliser to the Alpha’s disgruntlement.

While Oliver talked, they started moving south in the direction of Roy’s house, which Oliver was familiar with from watching and shadowing his sister go there. Apparently, Sin’s place was in the same neighbourhood as Roy’s, but it was the last one on the block in the dead-ended cul-de-sac.

Roy had mentioned to Oliver that he got off work shortly and that he’d try to meet the Arrow back at Sin’s place.

Slade had been silent for most of the time as Oliver explained the situation. Once Oliver fell quiet, Slade finally spoke.

“Hey kid, can I ask you something?” Slade queried as the two of them were running across a flat rooftop building in the Glades.

The Omega let out a small noise that sounded like a _hmph_ yet didn’t slow his pace as he responded to the Alpha. “It’s not like you to ask if you can do anything,” Oliver said.

A slight growl left Slade before the Alpha fell silent. Slade didn’t elaborate on his previous words and Oliver paid his Alpha little mind, knowing and hearing Slade still following beside him. Oliver’s legs carried him forward, the Omega intent on them reaching their destination as soon as possible.

Something like anxiety thrummed in Oliver’s veins though the Omega wasn’t sure what it was about this mission that had set him off more than most of the others he’d done.

Perhaps it was the matter of sex trafficking and adolescent Omegas being kidnapped that hit too close to home for Oliver. After all, Oliver did also remember being a young, defenceless Omega, stranded on a dangerous island. And it was only through the kindness and mercy of others that Oliver had survived his time on Lian Yu.

Lady Luck had clearly somewhat been on Oliver’s side over the years.

However, if sex traffickers truly had kidnapped Sin, time wouldn’t be on her side. Sex traffickers would not intend to keep their abductees around for long. They’d have connections—likely out of town—potential buyers for the Omegas they snapped up off the streets and from their homes.

Heat burned in Oliver’s stomach despite the chill in the air. Time was certainly of essence right now and Oliver couldn’t afford to lose his focus if he wanted to save at least one Omega’s life from likely being destroyed very shortly.

Before Oliver could go to make the jump off the building and onto a piece of concrete, raised by the earthquake several months ago, forming a ramp-like structure up to the building, Slade’s words halted him.

“If these are really sex traffickers, you gonna kill ‘em?” Slade asked bluntly.

The Alpha’s words were like a bucket of cold water to Oliver’s system, the Omega stopping in his tracks before whirling around to face Slade.

Oliver’s teeth gritted together and his hands curled into fists at his sides. Whatever emotions Slade’s face displayed were hidden by the Alpha’s black and orange mask.

_Anyone who puts their hands on an Omega without permission rightfully should be put to death,_ Oliver couldn’t help but think to himself.

Oliver had to shake those thoughts from his mind before addressing Slade. It would do him no good if he let his emotions get the best of him in this situation.

“Look, need I remind you of this…” Oliver began, finally meeting Slade’s dark gaze with his icy own. He and Slade had discussed this topic before but Oliver felt the need to say it to Slade again.

“If it’s going to be you and me out here, you need to play by my rules. And that includes when it comes to killing.”

Slade remained silent and seemingly impassive before Oliver at the Omega’s words. Which Oliver took as good as an indicator as any to continue.

“We don’t _kill_ ,” Oliver stressed the words. “We don’t kill when it's avoidable. Even if some people certainly deserve it. It’s not always avoidable though. So long as you only kill when your life is at stake, the lives of hostages or innocents are in danger, or if your identity is at stake, then we’ll be fine.”

The Alpha merely nodded before Slade reached his hand out, clapping it over Oliver’s right shoulder and squeezing it gently

Alpha and Omega’s eyes locked.

“I’m fine with all of that… Just don’t ask me not to kill where your safety is concerned,” Slade said gruffly.

_Of course, Slade would kill for me,_ Oliver mused to himself. _He has killed for me._

“Come on,” Oliver said, shrugging Slade’s hand off his shoulder. They’d already wasted enough time standing around as it was. “We’ve got work to do.”

xxxxxxxx

The further east and deeper into the Glades you went—no doubt the closer you got to where Malcolm Merlyn's second earthquake machine had lain hidden away in the subway tunnels—the worse for wear the buildings and environment became. So it was no wonder that the neighbourhood that Sin and Roy lived in—it having been relatively close to the location where the second Markov Device became active—was in such a state of disrepair.

Some of the buildings further east of here had outright collapsed and crumbled during the Undertaking, though just because most of the houses in this neighbourhood were still somewhat standing didn’t mean the same could be said for the pavement. Uprooted concrete lined Slade and Oliver’s path and the Omega was careful to avoid the potholes opened up in the ground, not quite sure how deep any of them went.

Darkness engulfed the street, some lampposts having fallen to the Glades earthquake and even more of them completely without power.

Anxiety sat in the pit of Oliver’s stomach like a snake lying in wait. Almost everything about these parts of the Glades upset and infuriated him. From the fact that he couldn’t stop every little mugging in the streets to the fact that abducting someone from a neighbourhood like this would be practically child’s play.

Something needed to be done and soon. Change would need to happen within the Glades as a whole, otherwise Oliver was likely only going to be hearing of more of these tragedies. But Oliver was unsure as to how to enact any real change in the city as a bow and arrow had only gotten him so far.

Sin’s place stood as more of a shack, rather than a house, Oliver noticed as he and Slade approached the end of the block.

Even in the dark, Oliver could pick out a figure stood outside Sin’s house, likely Roy.

Roy flicked his gaze in the Omega’s direction, just as Oliver and Slade approached quietly.

Oliver ground to a halt as Roy turned to meet him, Slade’s footfalls also falling silent behind the Omega.

Darkness obscured Roy’s facial expressions though Oliver could hear the confusion and shock in the young Beta’s voice when he spoke.

“Oh my god, you didn’t tell me you were bringing company,” Roy gaped.

No doubt Slade appeared as an odd sight behind Oliver, the Alpha likely looking far more intimidating and threatening than the Arrow, what with Slade being near-on camouflaged in the night.

A low growl emanated from behind Oliver.

Though Oliver couldn’t see Slade, the Omega imagined Slade might have been exchanging glaring daggers with Roy from behind him.

“He’s the best tracker I know,” Oliver nodded towards Slade.

“Yeah, so beat it squirt,” Slade added curtly, the Alpha moving up to stand beside his Omega.

Although Roy let out a grumble at Slade’s somewhat demand, he then turned to leave, brushing past Oliver and Slade.

“Do you need me to walk you home?” Oliver asked, his eyes following Roy.

Roy stopped, giving Oliver this look with both of his brows raised that made the Omega think Roy was looking at him like he was stupid.

“What? No,” Roy scoffed before turning on his heel and proceeding to walk back down the block.

Oliver’s eyes remained trained on Roy until the Beta disappeared from his sight behind an uprooted piece of concrete. Although Roy had kept on a collected face in front of the Arrow, Oliver knew the young Beta was likely worried sick for his friend.

Once the Beta had disappeared into the night, Oliver heard Slade let out a hearty laugh from beside him. Slade’s padded elbow was then nudged into Oliver’s side. The Omega growled.

“Look at you, turning into a bit of a mother hen,” Slade chuckled.

Despite the mask on Slade’s face, Oliver knew the Alpha was grinning at him like a fool.

“That’s Thea’s boyfriend. If anything happened to him, Thea would be devastated,” Oliver explained, sure Slade already knew the former but wanting to emphasise his point all the same. “Come on,” Oliver bit out, stepping forward towards Sin’s house.

Now that Roy was gone, Oliver took the time to fully study and observe the exterior of Sin’s house. Roy had mentioned there were signs of forced entry and clearly that was the case. Wood on the front of the door had been splintered, like it had been slammed into, and the door also looked to be coming away from its top hinge. If there were any traces of the scents of the people who had abducted Sin in the air, Oliver unfortunately couldn’t smell them over his own scent neutralizer.

When Oliver finally proceeded into Sin’s house, Slade trotted in after him. Oliver shut the door behind them, or rather he leaned back on it as the door would no longer close properly on its frail hinge.

Flicking the light switch beside the door, Oliver was unsurprised when nothing happened. Sin did have some fairy lights strung up over her bed illuminating the place, which Oliver assumed must be battery powered.

Slade was stood in the centre of Sin’s room, in between a single bed littered with articles of clothing and a couch with several holes in it. Slade removed his mask, the Alpha then placing his helmet on the floor.

“‘Can’t smell much of anything with this on,” Slade said.

“Do you need me to leave?” Oliver asked from where he was still stood by the door. He wasn’t sure if his own scent would impede Slade’s ability to pick up Sin’s.

“ _Nah_ ,” Slade drawled, flashing Oliver a sidewards grin. “‘Can barely smell you at all, what with all that scent neutralizer crap on yah.”

“Alright then, _track_ ,” Oliver responded firmly before falling silent.

Oliver’s eyes followed Slade as the Alpha started poring over the contents on Sin’s bed. Quickly, Slade snapped up a nude bra from the assortment of clothing on the bedspread, the Alpha seeming to know immediately what he was looking for.

Oliver growled at the sight of his Alpha’s fingers tangled in another Omega’s undergarment.

“ _Really?_ ” Oliver asked, flaring his nostrils at the Alpha.

Slade chuckled  as he turned to face his rather displeased looking Omega.

“She was wearing this last and I’ll get her scent best from anything that’s been in direct contact with her skin,” Slade explained, holding up the Omega’s bra for Oliver to see. “So, don’t you go getting your panties in a twist just ‘cause I’m not fondling your boxer-briefs.”

Oliver snorted, averting his gaze.

Under normal circumstances, Slade probably would have been left feeling smugly satisfied by what felt like jealousy radiating off Oliver, but right now they had more important things to worry about.

Burying his nose in Sin’s bra, Slade deeply inhaled trying to get Sin’s distinct scent. The Omega smelt like milk and honey, with a touch of almond. What Slade would consider to be an unmistakable Omega scent. He dropped Sin’s bra back onto her bed.

They were other scents in the room too, Slade noted, though they weren’t very strong. If Slade had to guess he would say an Alpha and two Betas had been here recently. It was likely they were Sin’s abductors. Betas had very muting, plain scents though so it was hard to distinguish one from another, or determine their numbers. Just based off their scents, Slade didn’t think he’d be able to track them very well, so he’d just have to hope that he could follow Sin’s back to wherever she’d been taken.

Another smell reached Slade’s nose as he was scenting the air. It was slightly acrid, like smoke with a touch of sulphur. Slade might have even found it comforting—it was a familiar smell to him—had the Alpha not been where he currently was.

Slade snapped his eyes open that he hadn’t realised he’d shut while he was taking in all the scents in the room.

Propellant. It was gunpowder he smelt.

His gaze quickly slid over the room as Slade followed his nose and the smell to the brick wall at the back. Crouching down, Slade found what he was looking for, the light from Sin’s wall catching the bronze coloured object on the floor.

A bullet. Whoever had infiltrated Sin’s house had been armed and dangerous.

The Alpha studied the bullet between his fingertips. It looked to be about half an inch tall, which looked tiny in Slade's hand, but the Alpha was well versed in firearms enough to know that was long for a projectile that had been fired and separated from its casing. Although Slade could likely find the casing somewhere else on the floor, Slade didn’t need it to confirm his suspicions.

This was a rifle bullet. Something like a 5.56×45mm NATO, Slade was assuming but the Alpha would definitely want to double check his guess.

“They didn’t shoot her, did they?” Oliver then spoke up from behind Slade.

Slade shook his head, getting to his feet and turning to face Oliver. His fingers curled around the bullet still in his hand.

“No. Absolutely no scent of blood in the room. And even if she barely bled from it, I’d still be able to smell the blood.”

“So, we have to hope they just fired to warn her?” Oliver asked.

“Yeah, that. Intimidation tactic,” Slade mused aloud, “Either way, it was stupid. They left behind evidence.”

Considering that Slade was able to find the bullet in the first place and that it hadn’t been embedded in a wall unseen, Slade imagined the bullet might have been fired at the ceiling and ricocheted onto the floor.

Oliver was still leaning against the door when Slade walked over to him, the Alpha allowing Oliver to take the bullet from him.

“Have you got her scent?” Oliver enquired as he pocketed the bullet.

The Alpha nodded.

“Good, then get out so I can spray the place,” Oliver stated, revealing a can of portable scent neutralizer.

Slade only bothered to retrieve his helmet from the ground, replacing it over his head before obliging with his Omega’s request.

xxxxxxxx

Once Slade left the room, Oliver doused the interior of Sin’s house with scent neutralizer. He and Slade had masked their scents and accordingly left no trace of themselves, but Oliver imagined Sin also would rather not smell the scents of her abductors lingering in her house.

Now that Slade had Sin’s scent, Oliver pursued his Alpha as Slade followed after Sin’s smell and presumably the captors that had took her.

Oliver remained silent, allowing Slade to focus as they began to run into the night, mainly following the roads. On the ground, Oliver didn’t feel as secure as he did up high on top of rooftops. Yet they were in the Glades—one place people usually knew better than to frequent the streets at night, unless of unless they were looking for trouble—and accordingly Slade and Oliver encountered no one as they jogged past the blocks.

From what Oliver could tell they were heading back west which would imply that Sin’s kidnappers were camped out in a slightly more hospitable—though not by much—part of the Glades.

As they ran occasionally Slade would stop for a moment, take in a deep breath and then continue on running. Oliver noticed this happened more and more often after they’d been moving for several minutes. Clearly Slade’s mask did his olfactory system little favours so Oliver could understand why the Alpha had to stop often to refocus on Sin’s scent.

Then Slade stopped again.

Oliver was silent behind Slade as he watched his Alpha sniff at the air. Moments passed up until Slade finally shook his head before turning to face Oliver.

“That it?” Oliver asked, trying not to sound disappointed, already anticipating his Alpha’s answer.

Slade let out a low rumble, the Alpha sliding his gaze away from Oliver’s.

“Alright, so maybe I’m a little bit rusty. ‘Don’t usually go round sniffing after people these days unless it’s you. But… I lost her trail here. I’m sorry kid,” Slade spoke solemnly.

Oliver sighed though he wasn’t sure if Slade caught it. He had hoped to get more out of Slade just following Sin’s scent.

“Come on,” Oliver uttered out, flicking his head in the opposite direction, “We have the bullet at least.”

xxxxxxxx

Alpha and Omega quickly arrived back at Verdant, Oliver wasting no time as he begun to brief Diggle and Felicity on what had happened.

Diggle and Felicity had given Slade a look up and down when Slade trotted into the basement after Oliver. Though Oliver himself had done the same, likely more so and for longer than his friends had done the initial time he saw Slade in his… _attire_. It was intimidating to say the least, what with Slade looking like a walking armoury. But Slade quickly removed his mask again once they were indoors.

While Oliver did most of the talking, Slade was stood beside him—a comforting presence. Across from them, Felicity and Diggle were silent, seemingly engrossed in what Oliver was saying as the Omega brought them up to speed on what had happened at Sin’s house.

“This is all we found,” Oliver stated as he wrapped up his explanation. He removed the bullet from his pocket and handed it to Felicity. “Can you give us anything based off this?”

“I’m guessing it’s a 5.56×45mm NATO,” Slade added as the Beta took the object from Oliver.

Felicity made a small humming sound.

“Bullets aren’t exactly my forte but I will do my best,” Felicity responded, flashing Oliver a smile.

Dig was glancing at the bullet still in Felicity’s hand from over the Beta’s shoulder.

“If you’re right Slade, then the SCPD’s database should come in handy. In recent years, California has started policing the registration of assault weapons and 50 calibre rifles. If the cops have picked up a 5.56×45mm NATO that this same rifle has fired before, they may have uploaded its striation pattern to the NIBIN. If we could match the striations on the bullet to a rifle registered with the SCPD’s database then that might lead us straight to whoever’s kidnapped Sin,” Diggle theorised.

A sigh left Oliver, the Omega crossing his arms over his chest. He got what Dig was saying. Residents of the state were legally expected to register their rifles otherwise they’d risk legal trouble if they got caught with them. The Starling City Police Department would accordingly have a database of whom legally owned what in the city.

Even without a weapon, the striations left on a fired bullet could possibly be used to link it back to a firearm, registered or not. Striations were ridges and grooves left on the bullet from the barrel of the weapon it was fired from. Each gun barrel was unique and it would always leave the same pattern on the bullets it fired. That’s where the NIBIN came in.

The National Integrated Ballistic Information Network contained images of the striations on bullets found at crime scenes or in otherwise similar situations. If you ever left a bullet behind somewhere, there was a chance that the cops with the NIBIN had been able to determine exactly what type and model of firearm had fired that bullet and then been able to trace it back to you.

This was all in optimal case scenarios though, and Oliver never had been much of an optimist. Plenty of the firearms in the city had slipped by unregistered, and without an exact name and face to someone who might not even still own the weapon fired at Sin’s house, they were going to have a lot more trouble finding the young Omega.

And yet the bullet from Sin’s house was the only piece of evidence they had and Oliver sorely needed it to be enough.

Time was ticking away.

Oliver could also feel Slade’s eyes on him, nervous energy no doubt washing off of him in waves. But Oliver was all business and focus right now, paying his Alpha and friends little mind

“Alright,” Oliver finally nodded, “Felicity, have we got access to the SCPD’s gun database?”

The Beta shook her head.

“You’ve never asked me to get into it before. The SCPD’s databases usually tend to be fairly secure though. And seeing as you’re currently in the good books with Detective Lance, why don’t I just phone him and ask him to hand it over to you?” Felicity suggested.

“If that’s quicker for you then. Lance might also be able to get us access to the NIBIN, right?” Oliver asked.

Felicity got out her phone, ready to call the Lance Alpha.

“Yeah, I’ll mention it to him. And if he can’t, then I’ll just start working on getting us into the NIBIN myself. I’ll call Lance now.”

xxxxxxxx

Oliver met Detective Lance at their usual location. His Alpha had followed behind him, keeping Oliver company as they left Verdant again, but Slade stayed out of sight while Oliver quickly conversed with the detective.

As Slade and Oliver hurried back to Verdant, Oliver was reminded of what Felicity and Dig had half-jokingly but half-seriously mentioned to him a couple days back. That if Slade was going to be out roaming the streets at night with Oliver, why hadn’t Oliver just had Slade move his own gear down into Verdant yet?

When Oliver mentioned this to Slade, the Alpha quickly agreed with Oliver’s suggestion, smugly stating that Oliver just couldn’t wait to see more of his Alpha in his daily life. Slade had his own keys to Verdant so Oliver was confident that Slade would manage moving all his things down there whenever he pleased.

Back at Verdant, Oliver handed over what they’d gotten to Felicity. Lance had given them a USB copy of the police’s database of registered firearms and given them the details on how to get into the NIBIN.

And now all Oliver could do was wait for the Beta to work her magic.

It was close to one in the morning when Oliver finally got changed out of his Arrow suit and back into normal clothing.

Felicity was hunched over her computer, fingers tapping away on her keyboard with the striation database open in front of her as well as a picture of the striations on the bullet they’d found. She was using knowledge of technology that Oliver just didn’t have to quickly and automatically compare images in the database looking for a match to their bullet.

Diggle was off to Felicity’s side on one of the other unoccupied benches, the Alpha measuring the bullet’s length and diameter to confirm that it was indeed a 5.56×45mm NATO.

Slade was leaning against the wall, still clad in all his weapons and armour sans helmet.

Oliver grimaced once he’d finished putting away his bow and equipment. Unwelcome thoughts plagued his mind and he couldn’t help but admit to himself that he’d felt useless earlier and still sort of did. While Slade had been attempting to follow Sin’s scent, Oliver hadn’t been able to do anything.

He was an Omega dammit, and despite how much Oliver’s dynamic sometimes annoyed him, being an Omega meant his olfactory system was meant to be better than Slade’s. Or maybe that wasn’t the case, because Oliver wasn’t sure if the Mirakuru had enhanced Slade’s other senses beyond just his physical body. Regardless, Omegas had been scientifically proven to have better olfactory systems than either Alphas or Betas.

Yet Oliver knew that for as long as he continued to wear scent neutralizer—masking his own Omega scent as the Arrow but also somewhat impairing his own ability to smell—he’d never be able to track effectively. That would never change.

Before Oliver could lament further, the Omega was broken from his thoughts.

“So, you reckon these guys are actually into human trafficking or are they just snatching Omegas off the streets for themselves?” Slade’s voice asked from behind Oliver.

Turning to face Slade, Oliver found his Alpha staring back at him intently. Oliver immediately understood what Slade was asking him. Slade was asking him if he thought the ‘sex traffickers’ who’d taken Sin were actually just raping the Omegas they kidnapped rather than selling them. Though Slade clearly had enough tact not to say that in front of Diggle and Felicity.

Oliver screwed up his face.

“The Glades are bad,” Oliver began to elaborate, “Birth control, suppressants, different forms of scent concealment, shots—they're all expensive. And don’t even get me started on food and medicine. People in the Glades usually either can't afford these things or don't have access to them.”

_And that’s sometimes why they turn to crime_ , Oliver silently finished to himself.

The energy in the room was tight and nervous. Everybody, bar Slade, seemed a bit weary and Oliver was just waiting for some good news from Felicity.

“What are shots?” Felicity asked though her eyes didn’t stray from her computer.

“Uhh,” Oliver let out, not quite sure how to explain the matter to Felicity. It was almost like Betas lived in completely different worlds to Alphas and Omegas, or at the very least they seemed to lead the simpler lives of the three dynamics.

“Omegas and Alphas sometimes get shots,” Oliver began to explain after a moment of getting his thoughts together. “There’s an actual name for them but I don’t know it. But it’s like an injection that re-exposes your body to the opposite dynamic’s hormones and pheromones. That’s probably a bad explanation but I’ve never had a shot.”

  
“It's like getting a vaccine, only the needle's a big bastard and it sorta hurts,” Slade chimed in from where he was still stood by the wall.

Dig seemed to hum in agreeance with Slade’s words, the Alpha looking up from where he’d been examining the bullet.

  
“They give them to you in the military. Or any field, country, place, et cetera where Omegas or Alphas are scarce and they don’t see much of one another. Alphas and Omegas usually don’t get funny around one another, but apparently they can get aggressive and other issues can crop up if they haven’t been exposed to one another’s scents often enough. It’s rare, but shots are aimed at preventing that from happening,” Dig said.

“Y'know I'm happy as a Beta I don't really have these problems,” Felicity remarked at Diggle’s explanation.

The Alpha then walked over to Felicity, re-handing her the bullet and then saying something to her. Most likely Diggle was confirming with Felicity that the bullet was a 5.56×45mm NATO, Oliver thought to himself, but the Omega hardly cared to listen to their conversation now. He was getting antsy just waiting for Felicity to turn up results and like an animal in a cage Oliver had begun to pace the floor.

Not even Slade’s presence and warm, musky Alpha scent in the room was helping Oliver to feel calm. Though Oliver was hardly running to his Alpha for attention either.

“How long is this going to take?” Oliver couldn’t help blurting out as he approached Felicity.

“This could take… awhile,” Felicity reported, “We could be here for some of the night and early morning.”

The Beta was nervously chewing a capped pen between her teeth and her eyes were half-lidded behind her glasses.

Before Oliver could utter out another bossy retort, needing Felicity to just hurry up already otherwise Oliver would go crazy, Slade beat him to speaking.

Slade was suddenly right next to him, leaning over Felicity’s desk, talking to the Beta.

“Hey, why don’t you let me take over?” Slade asked, his words sounding surprisingly soft to Oliver’s ears. “This is sort of up my alley and I ain’t got nothing better to do. Besides, you look tired and you guys are supposed to be at Oliver’s work in a couple hours.”

Oliver was slightly shocked by the attentiveness of Slade’s statement. No doubt Felicity likely also felt the same way as Oliver as confusion temporarily crossed the Beta’s face. That expression on Felicity’s face quickly vanished, replaced by a small smile. Felicity then muttered out something along the lines of ‘okay, I’ll show you what I’ve already done’ but Oliver was hardly listening to the words Felicity and Slade exchanged as his eyes just remained glued to his Alpha.

When had… When had Slade become so soft and understanding? Of course, Oliver knew that he and Slade opened up to one another a little more than they did around anyone else, but he never would have expected to see Slade exert the same attentiveness with one of his friends.

Slade’s voice addressing him broke Oliver out of his thoughts.

“And you too kid, get out of ‘ere,” Slade stated, shooting Oliver a look from over his shoulder.

Felicity and Diggle, Oliver noticed, appeared to be gravitating towards the stairs, possibly waiting for him. A part of Oliver felt compelled to want to hug his Alpha as he and his friends would all get more sleep if Slade could just take over and do their jobs for them. Considering Slade’s background in ASIS and the armed forces, Oliver imagined Slade might have also been able to get a match on their bullet and firearm faster than Felicity could.

Oliver yielded to the hard stare Slade was giving him before brushing past his Alpha and walking out of Verdant with Diggle and Felicity. He was getting soft from being around Slade and there was no way he needed to hug Slade right in front of his friends and show them just how smitten he was with Slade.

Goddamn Slade…

xxxxxxxx

Once Oliver and his friends had left the room, Slade allowed himself to sit down in front of Felicity’s computer screens. The NIBIN database was still open there alongside a picture of the bullet they’d found. Though Slade quickly found himself reconfiguring the search options on the NIBIN database, narrowing down the amount of images it was checking against their bullet.

Diggle had measured their bullet at 5.7mm in diameter and 0.5 inches in length. That confirmed to Slade that this bullet was indeed a 5.56×45mm NATO. So then set the NIBIN database to exclusively search for those.

5.56×45mm NATOs were the cartridges used in the M16 rifle range. Seeing as M16s were one of the standard issued weapons in America’s armed forces, it wouldn't’ surprise Slade if the sex traffickers had firearms along those lines. Though the 5.56×45mm NATO cartridges were definitely used in other firearms as well so Slade would just have to wait and see what the NIBIN turned up. If it gave him the model of the gun that fired their bullet or perhaps an exact match to a registered firearm.

Then Slade could potentially look at the SCPD’s database for someone who may or may not have even still owned and used the weapon. Even after living in Starling for over a year now, Slade still wasn’t very familiar with all the suburbs and street names in the city. So if Slade found an address or something linked back to someone who might have fired their bullet, Slade would just message those details to Felicity. That was likely more her division than his.

Slade couldn’t help that he dug the heel of his palm into his eye once he’d finished theorising on how he was going to track down whoever had abducted Sin.

Oliver had been antsy and off all night since getting the news from Roy that Sin had been kidnapped. The Alpha had known better than to attempt comforting his Omega when Oliver was all business and focused like he’d been earlier. This led to Slade remaining quiet for most of the night, standing off to the side in Verdant as he still felt like something of an unwelcome visitor there.

He wasn’t quite sure where he fit in with Oliver’s friends. Diggle and Felicity’s first introduction to him was that he and Oliver were allegedly fighting and Slade knew he himself could hardly let that go.

At this point, Slade knew he was just being paranoid yet he couldn’t stop his thoughts from running wild about Oliver. Slade realised now that Oliver was his life. He’d been committed to Oliver for a long time now, protecting the kid and trailing after him despite Slade himself being the one to claim that attachments were weakness. He never stopped loving Oliver either.

Over the years Slade’s mind had only become clouded with misguided hate. Who would have thought that the hallucinations in his head and the fury in his body wouldn’t be soothed by killing Oliver, but by loving him?

Oliver whom was his purpose and reason for being now. Slade supposed he could live with that acknowledgement albeit it was sappy as fuck. He also realised that he hadn’t told Oliver that he loved him yet. Frankly Slade couldn’t even remember the last person he’d said that to.

But… Slade supposed he was waiting for Oliver to say _I love you_ to him first.

Often times people just said _I love you_ and then the other person felt obliged to immediately respond back with it. Slade didn’t want a reflex response from Oliver though, he needed Oliver to say those words openly to him first.

Although Slade’s mind was old and wise enough to simply read from Oliver’s actions that the Omega shared his affections, Slade’s heart was more weary and uneasy about being broken again. If Oliver left him, Slade didn’t know what he would do. Was that possessive of Slade to never want Oliver to leave him?

Oliver had Bonded him, so to an extent he and Oliver were definitely committed to one another. Slade was Oliver’s only because Oliver was his.

Slade let out a sigh, glancing back at the NIBIN database that had yet to locate a match to the striations on their bullet.

He supposed for now, he’d likely have to wait to hear those words from Oliver. The words that would likely ease Slade’s mind. He hoped they would come… they had to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was something a bit different this chapter so I would love to hear your feedback on it. Also, if there’s anything you’d like to see in the series or anything else you were wondering about, feel free to post away. I’m always open to constructive criticism.
> 
> Tumblr: sladiver.


	18. Black and Green II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas everyone, here’s a gift from me to you! Thank you for continually reading this story despite the gaps between updates.
> 
> Thank you also to Alasmylove on archiveofourown for pre-reading this chapter.

When Oliver awoke in the morning, he found two text messages on his phone. One of them was from Slade, the Alpha stating he’d matched the bullet they found at Sin’s house to a registered firearm and that he’d forwarded the details onto Felicity. The second message was from Felicity relaying that she’d gotten the former details and would look over them further during the day.

Over the next couple hours at work, Oliver struggled to not climb up the walls. While Felicity used the information she had to try and work out where the sex traffickers might’ve been located, Oliver had to pretend to play the part of diligent CEO looking at figures and words he didn’t understand all day.

He did remember to inform his friends that Slade had accepted his offer to move his equipment into Verdant. Felicity and Dig both smiled at that before Felicity followed up by joking that Slade and Oliver couldn’t go making Verdant their little love nest.

By time Oliver and his friends arrived at Verdant, Felicity had results for them.

Oliver bounded down the stairs into the foundry, Felicity and Diggle trailing behind him as Oliver’s eyes sought out his hood. His gaze first trailed over Slade, the Alpha stood there already suited up with his arms crossed over his chest. The Alpha’s helmet, spare guns, and other equipment now occupied previously vacant tabletops.

Before Oliver could smile and greet his Alpha, Felicity beat him to speaking.

“You didn’t fall asleep here, did you?” Felicity asked, coming onto the floor, tablet in hand.

“Nope. I figured about now would be the time we got down to business though,” Slade responded.

“Hey,” Oliver said, the Alpha only responding with a nod.

Oliver gravitated towards the mannequin that his Arrow suit stayed on, the Omega already slipping off his business suit’s jacket and starting to get changed. The nights were beginning to warm up, so Oliver wouldn’t bother with putting on a shirt beneath his hood.

“Alrighty,” Felicity began, though her eyes remained glued to her tablet.

“So, Slade matched the bullet you guys found at Sin’s house to a M16A4 assault rifle. It’s registered with the state and belongs to one Terrence Morris.

“He’s a Beta, 44 years of age, was in the US military until shortly after coming back from Gulf War in the 90s. Terrence had an Omega too though they appear to have died during the Undertaking. It also looks like where Terrence lives—or where he would have lived—is in the part of the Glades that’s pretty much no longer standing. However, I did find where his fiancé lived and where they both worked. Those buildings should all still be standing.”

Felicity flipped her tablet around to show everyone, the screen currently displaying a map of part of the Glades. On it, there were three glowing red dots spread out across part of the Glades.

“So, we have to hope that Sin’s at one of those places,” Oliver said, lacing up his boots as quickly as possible.

The Beta hummed, flicking her eyes downward and momentarily screwing up her face.

Diggle glanced at the map on Felicity’s tablet then looked back to Oliver who was now slinging his quiver over his back.

“Those spots are pretty spread out though. Why don’t Felicity and I drive up to the northernmost building while you and Slade take the other two? If luck has it, we’ll have saved you some running around, Oliver,” Dig recommended, his car keys already in his hand.

Oliver shook his head.

“No, I’ll drive too,” Oliver corrected the Alpha as he was making the final adjustments to his suit, dousing himself in scent neutraliser. “‘Hopefully Slade and I won’t have to circle back over to you.”

When Oliver had finished getting dressed he gravitated over towards Slade, offering the older man a can of scent neutraliser.

“They’re in the cupboard by the stairs,” Oliver stated to Slade as the Alpha took the can from him.

“They’re disgusting is what they are. You smell like a damn hospital and now you’re making me smell like one too. All clean and sterile and shit,” Slade grumbled, furrowing his eyebrows.

Yet Slade obliged with his Omega’s wishes, quickly spraying himself with the can before putting it on the table behind him.

“I take it you should know the streets well enough to know where you’re going, but I’ll send you a visual shortly of the three buildings that way you know which doors you’ll be kicking in,” Felicity remarked to which Oliver nodded at.

Oliver scooped his bike’s keys into his pocket and grabbed his helmet from off a steel table before addressing his Alpha.

“Let’s go, Slade.”

Slade grabbed his own mask and placed it over his head, following Oliver out of Verdant.

Rarely did Oliver’s bike live just outside the club but over the weekends Oliver used it as his main form of transport. It was now Wednesday, and Oliver’s bike was still hidden away in the darkness of the back alley. The Omega strode over to his motorcycle, remembering and knowing where it was despite the lack of light.

Seating himself on his bike with his helmet in his lap, Oliver keyed the ignition, the engine quietly rumbling to life beneath him. He flicked his headlights on, brightening up the alleyway so Oliver could see Slade stood before him. Patting the back of the bike’s seat, Oliver couldn’t keep himself from smirking. A part of Oliver found it amusing that after all the times he’d been a passenger in Slade’s car, the shoe was finally on the other foot.

“Only for damn you would I get on the back of a motorbike,” Slade stated gruffly as the Alpha approached Oliver.

Begrudgingly the Alpha slid onto the bike behind Oliver.

“You’ll put your arms around me too if you don’t want to fall off,” Oliver recommended with a smile.

The bow and quiver slung over his back would likely poke into Slade uncomfortably when the Alpha leaned on him though. Slade’s arms then snaked around Oliver’s waist tightly and the Omega could feel Slade’s padded chest pressed up against his back. Oliver picked up the black helmet still on his lap and put it on. Both of his hands curled over the bike’s handles.

“I guess you don’t really need a helmet either seeing as you’re already sort of wearing one,” Oliver said, swivelling his head around as much as possible to address Slade.

Slade snorted.

The Omega kicked the bike’s stand up, giving Slade a proper glance behind him to make sure the Alpha didn’t have his feet on the ground or have them dangling.

“‘Y’know, I always took you for more of a four-wheel drive kind of guy,” Oliver mused aloud, “Why the Lamborghini?”

A sigh left Slade.

“Look, I wanted a set of wheels here in Starling. You guys don’t exactly sell a lot of off-road vehicles in your urban-ass town. It probably wasn’t the most practical thing I could have brought but… Fuck it, that’s just another stupid thing I’ve done I may as well blame on the Mirakuru.”

Oliver smiled at the allegedly stupid purchase Slade had made. He didn’t see his Alpha as the kind of person who did ever stupid things, maybe baring when Slade did irrational things due to the Mirakuru.

“Just hold onto me, okay,” the Omega advised before beginning to drive.

xxxxxxxx

While Oliver drove Felicity expectedly sent him images of the buildings he’d be going to. Firstly, he and Slade swung by an old engraving shop where Terrence Morris worked. Or rather, where he would have worked as the store’s sign and wood had fallen away from the building, nearly perfectly boarding up the entrance. Oliver had circled around the place to confirm that there were no other visible entrances—if there were any, debris was covering them—and that no one had likely been inside for months.

Slade informed Oliver that there were no fresh scents around the area. The building was as inaccessible and desolate as it looked.

Confident that they weren’t going to find anyone here, Oliver and Slade jumped back on the Omega’s bike.

Next, Oliver drove to what was once a drycleaning store where Terrence Morris’s fiancé had worked. This building was actually still standing and accessible and upon arriving in front of it Slade had sniffed at the air before telling Oliver his findings. There were faint scents around the place though nothing overtly distinct.

Alpha and Omega weren’t going to take their chances however, so Slade and Oliver crept into the building, gun and bow at the ready. Darkness shrouded the room as there was no power in this part of the Glades so Slade and Oliver were left to fumble around in the dark. Oliver didn’t want to use any of his trick arrows that could reinstate light into the room just in case they weren’t alone.

They found nothing and Slade mentioned that the scents here were likely too weak to have been left recently. If Sin’s kidnappers had been here, they’d cleared out a while ago.

Dig and Felicity had driven past the northernmost of the three buildings and were now parked down another street. Diggle reported to Oliver that there were no signs of life from outside the building when they drove past it, but it was also a two-story house thus it’d be the perfect place to hold a few people.

Oliver told his friends to stay put and wait for him and Slade. He parked his bike a couple buildings down before the two of them crept up onto a taller house next to their destination. There were no lights on in the house, though that was likely due to a lack of power.

“What do you smell?” Oliver asked Slade as they surveyed the house.

A slight breeze in the air was blowing in their direction but Oliver still couldn't smell jack shit.

Slade deeply inhaled. “Yep, the scents here are definitely fresher than the other two places we went to. There’s a few of ‘em too,” the Alpha remarked.

“What about Sin?” Oliver queried, “I need you to be sure that these people abducted her before we go in there.”

_Otherwise we’d possibly be barging into someone’s house and scaring the shit out of them,_ Oliver thought to himself.

“That _might_ be Sin’s scent,” Slade said, stressing the word. “There’s some other Omega scents in the air too, more than Alpha and Beta scents.”

Standing up from where he’d been crouching, Oliver slung his bow off his back.

“If you’re sure then,” Oliver sighed, hoping the Alpha was right about this. His other hand slid round to his quiver, grabbing his tether out from beneath it.

Because they were stood on a taller building next to the house where Sin’s likely kidnappers lived, from here Oliver could make to grapple onto the wall beside the upstairs window. This house looked like it was built in the 70s so Oliver imagined he’d be able to quietly break the window and make his way through onto the second floor.

“Alright, stay here for the moment. Let me get onto the second floor and once I’m in, feel free to take downstairs,” Oliver offered.

He began to thread his rope through the back of a grappling hook arrow he had.

“With pleasure,” Slade growled lowly to which Oliver’s eyebrows furrowed at, the Omega shooting his Alpha a look.

“Non-lethal, remember,” Oliver reminded Slade as he finished getting his grappling equipment ready.

Slade nodded.

Oliver nocked his arrow in his bow, lining it up with the wall just above the second story window on the house. The Omega gave Slade one last look beside him, knowing that as soon as he shot this arrow his bow would automatically start to retract his makeshift zip-line. Walking to the edge of the rooftop, Oliver then let his arrow fly. It embedded above the window where he wanted it, Oliver immediately feeling the pull from his bow as it began drawing back the line. He let it though, Oliver jumping off the building and allowing himself to be propelled towards the window.

His feet connected with the wall on either sides of the window. With his bow and legs supporting him, Oliver decided to just put his fist through the window. Glass shattered inwards onto the floor, though Oliver was confident he wasn’t too loud, as he kicked in the rest of it. Oliver slid his feet through the window and dropped onto the floor.

Turning to retrieve his arrow that was still dug into the outside wall, Oliver’s eyes simultaneously flicked over the rooftop he’d just came from. As Oliver probably should have come to expect by now, Slade was nowhere to be found there. The Omega retrieved his arrow before quickly packing his grappling equipment away. He then nocked another arrow.

He surveyed his surroundings, finding himself in an unoccupied bedroom. Musky Alpha scents and the dull smell of Betas hung in the air, preventing Oliver from smelling much else.

Silently, Oliver crept across the carpet to the only door in the room. His ears were pricked up trying to detect any noises that might indicate there were people outside the room.

The sound of gunfire and yelling broke out in the house.

_Slade…_ Oliver mentally cursed to himself as he swung open the door in front of him and started moving down the nearby corridor. When Oliver told Slade he could take downstairs, he’d at least expected the Alpha to be a little more discreet about it.

There were lanterns in the hallway, like those used for camping, so Oliver could see where he was going as he rounded a nearby corner. Oliver started to descend the staircase but halted when he saw a figure in front of him. They must have heard him as a man wheeled around to face Oliver, revealing the rifle in his hands.

Bullets showered the stairs as Oliver ducked back around the corner he’d came from. But not before Oliver released the arrow still in his bow, letting it fly over the top of the stairs railing. By the time a cry of pain from downstairs reached Oliver’s ears and the gunfire in his direction had ceased, Oliver already had another arrow in his hand. Swiftly, Oliver crept back down the first few stairs.

Yelling and gunfire continued echoing throughout the rest of the house.

This time Oliver aimed at disarming the man who’d fallen to the ground thanks to the arrow in his foot. His arrow smacked the rifle from the man’s hand.

Oliver was immediately scanning downstairs for his next target. However, his vision was obstructed from where he stood on the stairs, so Oliver darted down them onto the first floor.

As Oliver would have expected, the man he’d shot was slumped on the floor, no doubt the paralytic effect of Oliver’s arrow coated in snake venom already starting to take effect on him. A moan left the man, but no doubt that was to be expected as Oliver knew he’d have difficulty speaking for a while.

Two men were in front of Oliver but their rifles were aimed and firing into another room. The Omega fired an arrow into the upper arm of one of the shooters, causing the man to drop his weapon. A second arrow was then in Oliver’s bow, ready to be fired into the other man who was turning towards him, when suddenly something darted out from the other room.

He let his arrow slam through the back of the man’s knee just as a flash of steel glinted in the dim light. A sword was cleaved up over the shooter’s shoulder before the man then fell to the ground.

Slade was stood before Oliver, blood staining the Alpha’s sword. At the sight of the crimson fluid sluicing down Slade’s sword, Oliver found himself dragging his gaze over the older man’s frame, needing to distract his gaze. Oliver surveyed Slade for any injuries—more out of habit than any sort of necessity—and was unsurprised when he couldn’t see any tears in Slade’s outfit.

The Omega lowered his bow. Anyone that he’d already shot certainly wouldn’t be getting up for a while.

Brushing past Slade, Oliver proceeded into the room the Alpha had just came from. Some men and a woman Slade had already disarmed and slashed in non-lethal places lay on the floor in the kitchen. One of them might have been Terrence Morris, seeing as this house was registered to his fiancé’s name, but it was difficult to tell in the dim light. Oliver shot the men and woman all just the once, wanting to make sure they all stayed down and out of his way.

Slade had been stood in the doorway watching him, Oliver found when he turned to proceed back out into the main corridor.

“Did you have to just barge in here?” Oliver asked, shaking his head at the Alpha.

“Sorry, habit,” Slade responded gruffly, yet Oliver didn’t think Slade sounded too sorry about it. The Alpha crouched down beside one of his victims, pulling of the bandana from around their neck before using the fabric to dry the blood off his blade. He then sheathed his sword as if to appease Oliver.

_At least Slade didn’t kill anyone,_ Oliver thought to himself. _No one here’s likely to bleed to death before the SCPD gets here._

Immediately, Oliver came to a standstill in the corridor, confident that he and Slade weren’t going to be shot at anymore. His thoughts were wandering.

Oliver wasn’t as oblivious to where Slade’s wealth came from as he let the Alpha believe he was. The Alpha’s particular skills really only lent themselves to one field and Oliver had been in that field himself in recent years with A.R.G.U.S. and the Bratva.

It had been over two months now since Slade had abruptly burst back into his life. If Slade had only stopped contact killing since then, the transition to needing to exercise restraint when engaged in combat was likely difficult for Slade. Coupling the former with the Mirakuru having likely destroyed what little restraint Slade had and was capable of exerting… The thought left Oliver feeling like he’s probably made a big ask of his Alpha.

It took Tommy condemning Oliver’s killing habits and then Tommy getting killed due to Oliver’s actions, or inactions rather, to get Oliver to change his ways.

A part of Oliver’s mind pressed that he find Sin and the other abductees but another part of Oliver insisted that they weren’t going anywhere either. Anyone who had been guarding the abductees was likely lying on the floor, semi-paralysed.

Oliver’s thoughts were on Slade for the moment as he slid his gaze back over to the Alpha.

Slade flicked a glance up the hallway, the three men Oliver had shot lying on the ground, relatively motionless bar the occasional twitching and attempted slurred speaking.

“What’d you do to ‘em?” Slade asked, turning to face the Omega.

“Arrowheads coated in death adder venom,” Oliver began to explain. “It’s a neurotoxin, causes paralysis and it usually kills within six hours. But the police know I occasionally use it and will have the antivenom at the ready when they get here.”

Darkness shrouding the room and Slade’s mask hid the Alpha’s expression as Oliver spoke but the Alpha letting out a _tsk_ betrayed his lack of amusement.

“Almost seems like too much fuckin’ effort,” Slade scoffed, shaking his head.

“It’s easier for me than trying to manually tie up upwards of ten people while I wait for the SCPD to come pick them up,” Oliver explained, gravitating towards his Alpha whom was stood further up the corridor. The Omega still had mild concerns for the Alpha in his head, however Oliver wasn’t exactly sure what he expected Slade to say to ease his worries.

“Whatever, kid,” Slade grumbled as Oliver came to stand beside him.

Oliver opened his mouth to say something, then closed it, not quite sure what to say.

Slade’s armour-like suit and equipment still sometimes left Oliver feeling a bit uncomfortable, like when blood coated the Alpha’s sword and Oliver’s mind’s eye could only see his own blood on Billy Wintergreen’s blade. Though Oliver’s past trauma and then his mind inadvertently associating that with Slade’s current black-and-orange attire was hardly Slade’s fault.

“Why all the Kevlar, anyway?” Oliver queried after a moment, “Don’t you just heal really quickly when you get shot?”

He and Slade were alone, bar Sin’s likely kidnappers relatively unconscious on the floor, so Oliver didn’t think it overtly unwise to ask his Alpha about the workings of the Mirakuru within him right now.

“ _Yes…”_ Slade responds with a slight growl, to Oliver’s confusion. It was too dark for Oliver to see his Alpha’s eyes, but he expected Slade to be looking back at him with a narrowed gaze.

“Faster healing does not equate to a lack of pain though. In fact, it might even be worse because the entire healing process takes place in a shorter space of time. I found I would hallucinate more when I was in pain. _Fuckin’_ hate the pain so I’m going to wear this,” Slade spat.

_That… makes sense_ , Oliver lamented. Slade may recover quickly from injuries and be able to heal from things that other people usually couldn’t, but he wasn’t immune to pain. Physical pain clearly affected Slade’s psyche just as mental pain did.

Alpha and Omega lingered in the dimly lit hallway. Although Oliver wasn’t intent on getting sidetracked from the mission at hand, he did still want to quickly check in with Slade for his own peace of mind.

Turning to face Slade from where Oliver had been idling him, the Omega curled his fingers over the top of Slade’s shoulder. He leaned in towards Slade, Oliver pressing his face close in to Slade’s own but Oliver’s cheek, expectedly, met cold steel.

“I know I’ve sort of asked this before… but you’re okay now, right?” Oliver asked softly, his lips hovering over where he expected Slade’s ear to be. “You don’t hallucinate as much anymore?”

Slade let out a sigh, his hand brushing over Oliver’s hip momentarily before the Alpha’s arm dropped back by his side.

“I’m still not the best sleeper, as you know, but I don’t think I’ve actively hallucinated whilst I’ve been awake for a while now,” Slade affirmed quietly.

A warm feeling of relief washed over Oliver at Slade’s words, a smile tugging at the Omega’s lips though the Alpha couldn’t see it.

“Good,” Oliver responded.

In that moment, Oliver almost wanted to give Slade a quick kiss, but Slade’s mask prevented that so the Omega simply gave the Alpha’s shoulder a tight squeeze.

“Just stay like that for me now will you, old man?”

Oliver clapped his hand over Slade’s shoulder before pulling away from the older man.

“Now find Sin,” Oliver finished firmly.

xxxxxxxx

After scenting the air for a moment, Slade walked out the front of the house, wood crunching under his boots as he stepped over the door he’d kicked in on his way in. Oliver followed the older man outside though not before grabbing one of the camping lanterns from the corridor, re-slinging his bow over his back as he went.

Slade led Oliver around the side of the house, the light from the lantern Oliver had grabbed illuminating their path. The Alpha stopped in front of a set of padlocked double doors built into the ground beside the side of the house. Unceremoniously, Slade yanked the padlock and chain away from the basement doors, the chain rattling as it came away, to Oliver’s disgruntlement.

“Did you have to, Slade?” Oliver asked at the loud noise Slade had caused, “We don’t need to make them any more scared than they likely already are.”

“Would you rather have spent several minutes trying to jostle and pick the lock?” Slade posed the question back as he flipped the basement doors open revealing a set of stairs.

_No,_ Oliver thought to himself, wanting to make sure Roy’s friend was relatively safe as soon as possible, but the Omega didn’t voice his thoughts, not wanting to give Slade the satisfaction that he was right.

“Be a bit quieter next time, will you?” Oliver stated, knowing Slade was unlikely to comply with his request though. Albeit Slade had once been a spy, stealth was clearly no longer in Slade’s nature.

Stepping towards the stairs, Oliver let the lantern’s light wash over it, noticing that the basement’s floor was only just visible. Oliver’s nose twitched at the air, trying to pick up a trace of an Omega scent, but his olfactory system failed him as always. His gaze trailed over to Slade, the Alpha nodding at him.

“They’re in there,” Slade affirmed.

At Slade’s confirmation, Oliver began to descend down into the basement, the Alpha following behind him.

Darkness engulfed the basement, Oliver’s lantern only illuminating the basement floor and the sparse surroundings at the bottom of the stairs.

Halting about halfway down the stairs, Oliver hung his arm carrying the lantern over the stairs railing. Light spilled forth deeper into the basement revealing several figures crouched on the floor. Immediately, they scampered back into the darkness of the room before Oliver’s eyes could focus on them. Hushed whispers began to break the silence over the room as Oliver tried to listen to what they were saying.

From what Oliver’s eyes could discern from the brief moment he saw the figures on the floor, they’d looked to have all been fully dressed. That was somewhat of a relief though nothing definite. It is a morbid thought in Oliver’s mind… but if any of the people upstairs had physically abused and raped any of these Omegas, Oliver didn’t think he’d care to restrain himself from throttling them. Despite what Oliver had told Slade that they _didn’t_ kill, in select circumstances, Oliver’s mercy didn’t always prevail over his wrath.

Even if the people upstairs had no intentions of sexually abusing the Omegas they’d kidnapped, they had likely been planning to sell them to others who would.

Oliver’s free hand slid over the Bluetooth in his right ear, tapping it to dial Felicity.

“Felicity,” Oliver started quietly upon hearing the Beta pick up, “Call Lance. The hostages are in the basement on the left side of the house. Tell him he’ll need the death adder antivenom.”

“I’m on it,” Felicity chimed back before hanging up on Oliver.

At this point, Oliver’s job here was done but he still wanted to confirm Sin was here as her disappearance was what led to Roy coming to the Arrow with his suspicions in the first place.

Peering out into the basement, Oliver wasn’t surprised when he couldn’t see anyone and that the voices in the room were silent as Oliver slowly continued down the stairs. On the news, the Arrow was hardly portrayed as a hero so Oliver could understand anyone’s wariness at his presence.

Behind him, Slade also crept quietly down the stairs.

His nose twitched at the air, Oliver able to pick up the sweet smell associated with Omegas lingering in the room, yet his olfactory system told him little else. Not that Oliver should have expected to be able to discern anything like if these Omegas had been raped from smell alone.

As Oliver reached the bottom of the steps, he lingered just in front of the staircase, hoping that by treading carefully he minimised his chances of spooking the hostages anymore than they likely were. From where Oliver was standing, the lantern’s light didn’t illuminate the far end of the room, which was presumably where the Omegas had retreated to.

At this end of the room, there was only a sink and steel shelvings that looked to be full of tools against the walls.

Slade remained stood on the lower steps of the staircase.

It was eerily quiet in the room, Oliver yet to pace further into the basement when the sound of scuffling broke the silence.

“ _F-Flecha?"_  a meek voice said quietly from the darkness of the room.

The speaker’s voice was thick with an accent Oliver couldn’t pick from just a single word which made Oliver unsure of what they’d actually just said. What was a _flecha_ anyway, if not something related to an arrow’s fletching.

More scuffling emanated from the back of the room, Oliver imagining it had to be something being scuffed over the concrete floor.

“ _Flecha!_ ” the voice calls again, and this time Oliver picked the accent and was able to make sense of what they’re saying.

Flecha meant arrow. _Him_.

“What’s he doing!” a loud voice screeched, different from the last.

Whispers broke out again from within the room but before Oliver could attempt to discern any of what was being said, a figure stumbled out of the shadows in his direction. Instinctively, Oliver stepped forward, expecting them to fall, but the person corrected their footing before they crashed into Oliver.

An olive-skinned Omega boy’s gaze came up to meet Oliver’s as the boy stood up to his full height, a decent head shorter than Oliver’s.

_Jesus_ , Oliver cursed inwardly to himself as his eyes slid over the boy. They were fully dressed to Oliver’s relief, clothed in a dusty T-shirt, pants, and worn sneakers.

This… child almost looked too young to have even had his first heat though Oliver knew the former clearly wasn’t the case. A light, almondy scent reached Oliver’s nose and he knew from personal experience that Omegas scents were indistinguishable from Betas until they had their first heat.

The boy before Oliver looked maximum fourteen with his smooth face and slim frame though Oliver did have to remind himself that Omegas’ dynamics typically manifested with their first heat in between the ages of fourteen and sixteen.

None of the former bothered Oliver so much as the matter that the scumbags upstairs had kidnapped a child with the likely intentions of selling them to be sexually exploited.

In the lantern’s light, Oliver could make out the spark in the child’s eyes though, like he’d never lost hope that someone would come for him. A small amount of relief washed over Oliver at the former.

Before Oliver could open his mouth to speak, waiting to give the Omega some words of reassurance, the boy beat Oliver to speaking.

“ _La virgen de guadalupe ha respondido a mis oraciones,_ ” the boy said with a smile, clasping his hands together.

_That’s Spanish, right,_ Oliver thought to himself, wondering if the boy before him spoke any English. The boy looked like he might have been from Mexico. _Damn,_ Oliver thought to himself. Spanish was one language he had rudimentary knowledge of at best, it being just one of many classes Oliver sat through in high school but ultimately hadn’t given a shit about at the time.

As the Omega stared at Oliver, wide-eyed like he was anticipating a response, Oliver flicked his gaze back over to Slade whom was still stood by the stairs. Before Oliver could even question if Slade knew Spanish, preferably to a better degree than he did, the Alpha shook his head as if anticipating Oliver’s words.

“No, I don’t speak Spanish. I speak coon and Kiwi, that’s about it,” Slade reported gruffly.

Oliver’s brows furrowed at his Alpha’s words. Sometimes Slade’s abrasive nature and his lack of taste when speaking could still surprise Oliver. Once Oliver turned back to face the boy in front of him, it was with a relaxed expression on his face.

The boy’s eyes flitted back to meet Oliver’s from where they’d followed his gaze to looking at Slade.

“ _Amigo?_ ” the boy asked—or at least, it sounded to Oliver like he was asking a question based off his perplexed tone—staring at Slade again for a moment.

_Amigo…_ that meant friend, right, Oliver thought to himself. Clearly the young boy had some concept as to who the Arrow was, as he’d darted over to Oliver upon realising the vigilante had entered the basement to free him, but the media had yet to obtain or broadcast any evidence that the Arrow had been sighted with a likely ally. As such, Oliver imagined, Slade’s unfamiliar and somewhat menacing disguise possibly unnerved the young boy.

_Oh…_ it clicked in Oliver’s mind that a potential reason the other hostages in the basement were still hidden away in the darkness of the room was because Slade’s presence scared the shit out of them.

Quickly, Oliver tried to remember what little Spanish he knew, wanting to put to rest whatever fears the young boy had about Slade.

“ _Si, si, amigo, si,_ ” Oliver rattled off, looking at Slade as he spoke before turning back to the young Omega.

The boy looking at Oliver with raised brows and his mouth slightly open made Oliver think he’d just butchered whatever Spanish he attempted saying. Opening his mouth again to speak, Oliver closed it, knowing whatever other Spanish he could try would likely be just as bad.

Gingerly, Oliver settled his hand over the boy’s shoulder—the child thankfully didn’t flinch at the touch—as he maintained eye contact with the boy.

“Police coming,” Oliver stated, keeping his voice as neutral as possible and wanting to keep his words basic, not sure how much English the boy knew, if any.

“You’ll be safe,” Oliver smiled, squeezing the boy’s shoulder.

Taking his hand off the boy, Oliver hoped the gesture had been reassuring as he’d intended it to be, even if there was a language barrier. Before him the boy had an expression on his face that Oliver couldn’t recognise, though not one of distress. Swiftly, the boy turned from Oliver and darted back into the darkness of the room.

Oliver figured the former mustn't have been a bad sign though as he heard the boy’s voice again shortly thereafter.

“ _Ese es el amigo de la flecha,_ ” is what Oliver thinks he hears. Considering the fact that the boy had just said friend and the Arrow in the same sentence, Oliver expected that he’d gotten the point across that Slade was his friend, or the Omega may just have been acknowledging the Arrow as a welcome ally.

“Thank fuck!” another voice cried out loudly from within the darkness of the room, a more feminine voice this time Oliver thinks.

“Be quiet, and what’d he say?” a softer voice seemed to hiss back at the other speaker.

The volume of the speaking in the room swiftly dropped as even listening intently Oliver could only make out low murmured follow-ups to the last speaker’s words. A small smile tugged at Oliver’s lips even as he didn’t bother trying to make out what else the hostages might have been saying. _I think they’re alright_ , Oliver mused to himself.

_But…_ a small tendril of dread creeping to the forefront of Oliver’s mind preventing him from proceeding into the darkness of the room to look for Sin. Just because some of the hostages seemed to be full of life and okay, didn’t mean they all were.

Oliver shifted his attention to Slade, the Alpha leaning his arms on the stairs railing, Slade having remained silent since they first entered the basement.

“Come here,” Oliver beckoned, to which Slade wordlessly approached at, coming to stand beside Oliver.

“What do you smell in the room?” Oliver asked quietly, his face hovering over the side of Slade’s mask.

Slade inhales sharply, remaining silent for a moment, before heavily exhaling. The Alpha shook his head.

“No blood and cum, if that’s what you’re asking,” Slade affirmed, keeping his voice low.

Oliver sighed, his eyes flicking from Slade to the darkness engulfing the room concealing where the hostages were hiding

“So, the men and woman upstairs, they were likely just going to try selling them? They haven’t been… doing anything to the Omegas themselves?” Oliver posed the question.

A small humming sound left the Alpha.

“I can’t gauge that for certain, it’s not like I’m a damn rape kit. But… minimal scent of Alphas and Betas down here so I reckon the guys upstairs hardly even came down here.”

Oliver gave Slade a silent nod of approval. Although the Alpha hadn’t been able to reveal much of worth to him, Oliver felt more at ease by the fact that it seemed like no one here had been actively raped. Just the thought of it sickened Oliver and he wasn’t even sure how he’d approach a rape victim without inadvertently making them more uncomfortable.

The former looked like it wasn’t going to happen though, Oliver swiftly sweeping those thoughts from out his out of his mind. He hadn’t even realised he’d closed his eyes but when Oliver reopened them it was with resolve simmering within them.

“Alright, stay here,” Oliver stated, softly but firmly.

Slade’s appearance was definitely more frightening than his own, as such he’d prefer his Alpha to stay put where the kidnapped Omegas likely couldn’t see him as well.

Lantern still in hand, Oliver crept forward silently towards the other end of the basement. The whispers in the room that had continued whilst he and Slade had talked fell silent again. As the light from the lantern drove the darkness from the room, Oliver’s eyes trailed over his surroundings, finding more shelves and cardboard boxes stacked against the walls.

After taking a few small steps forward, Oliver’s eyes landed on a group of Omegas. They were crouched on the floor, their backs shoved up against the walls as most of them gave Oliver a wide-eyed stare.

“The police are on their way,” Oliver said, not sure if they would have heard him say that before to the Spanish boy.

“I’m not here to hurt you, I’m just looking for someone,” Oliver added, taking a moment to scan his eyes over the Omegas.

His gaze ran over the room, the back wall of the basement now visible, revealing nearly a dozen people huddled together in the small space. He paid little mind to the few males, though did notice the Spanish boy he’d spoken to before giving him a small wave. The boy was sat next to a slightly older girl, whom might have been his sister based on their similar olive-skinned complexions and dark hair.

He actually wasn’t even sure what Sin looked like, presumably she was around Roy’s age—early twenties—which made the girl in front of him too young to be her. Oliver thought the same of the next few girls he looked at until his eyes landed on two girls slotted in between a wall and a steel rack.

One of the girl’s blue eyes stared back at Oliver where the other female appeared to be asleep, her head resting on her companion’s shoulder. They looked to be the oldest out of all the girls Oliver had seen. Looking at the girl that was awake, taking in her dark cropped hair and her fair skin, Oliver realised something.

_Wait… I’ve seen her somewhere before._ She had been there in Thea’s room when Oliver had yanked the arrow he’d shot out of Roy’s knee. The Omega female hadn’t said much at the time, only offering Roy a bottle of alcohol for him to attempt to ease his pain away with. Oliver hadn’t learnt the Omega’s name back then but he had a feeling this was Sin he was looking at.

Gingerly, Oliver moved towards the two girls sat up against the wall, squatting down on his haunches in front of them so that he was at their eye level. He lowered the lantern he was holding to the floor so that it wasn’t glaring in the girls’ eyes. Albeit the girl that was sleeping didn’t make so much as a peep or subtle movement at Oliver’s approach.

Oliver could practically feel the multiple pairs of eyes in the room glued to him, the Omegas deathly quiet as if awaiting the Arrow’s approval that they could speak.

“Sin?” Oliver asked the dark-haired girl before him.

She raised a brow at Oliver for a moment before a slight smile broke out over her face.

“Oh shit, hey. You looking for me? It’s about time. I was hoping for the Canary, but seeing as she’s skipped town, you’ll do,” the Omega female remarked, identifying herself as Sin.

_The Canary? Who is she, another vigilante? Skipped town?_ Swiftly, Oliver is reminded of Sara whom left Starling shortly after the League of Assassins came looking for her, although Oliver hadn’t known she’d gone by a code name. Rather than inquiring back as to who the Canary was, Oliver decided against bothering Sin with unnecessary questions.

“You’re safe now. The police are coming to get you all out of here,” Oliver assured, “Roy tipped me off as to your disappearance, he was worried you might have been kidnapped.”

Letting out a groan, Sin shook her head.

“Well, he was right about that. Of course, then he went looking for you. For once, I’m glad for his vehement obsession with you. You still shot him though, that was a dick move. You know he just wants to help you though I don’t see the appeal,” Sin remarked.

“Are you alright?” Oliver asked, paying little mind to what the Omega had just implied about him.

Sin looked down at the floor for a moment before responding.

“Well, nobody tried to rape me this time, that was a relief. Though this is the first time I’ve been kidnapped. Uhh… other than the fact that I was dragged kicking and screaming out of my house and that I haven’t eaten in like a day, yeah I’m doing okay.”

Based off the fact that Sin could take slight verbal jabs at Oliver and the way she spoke about the current situation she was in, that seemed to confirm to Oliver that she was somewhat alright. Oliver didn’t like the passing comment that no one had tried to rape her _this time_ though but wasn’t going to push the subject.

He was about to thank Sin for her input when he realised the girl that was sleeping on Sin’s shoulder hadn’t woken up despite them conversing in front of her. The girl seemed to shudder every now and then and a thin sheen of sweat coated her hairline.

“Is she alright?” Oliver inquired, directing his gaze at the Omega asleep next to Sin.

“I dunno,” Sin replied, throwing a glance at the other girl, “She was awake when the bastards brought her down here… but that was a couple of hours ago I think.”

Concern flitted through Oliver’s mind, and maybe the girl was somewhat naturally fair-skinned but she looked almost white as a sheet under the lantern’s glow. Had the kidnappers upstairs roughed her up or done something to her before throwing her down her?

“Wake her please,” Oliver requested.

Sin responded with a ‘sure’ before giving her companion’s shoulder a rub.

“Hey Clarissa, the Vigilante wants to speak to you. Best not to keep him waiting so wake your ass up.”

After a moment of Sin giving the other girl’s shoulder a firm jerk, the Omega’s eyes blinked open though she didn’t appear to startle when her gaze landed upon the Arrow. Her eyes looked glassy and even Sin raised an eyebrow at her companion.

“Said she was diabetic, maybe she’s sick,” Sin said somewhat nonchalantly.

Alarm bells sounded in Oliver’s head. _Diabetic._

“Do you mind if I take her?” Oliver asked, already outstretching his arms towards Clarissa who had now at least lifted her head upright.

“Yeah, whatever,” Sin shrugged, Oliver swiftly then crowding into the two Omegas space.

One of Oliver’s hands slid beneath Clarissa’s outstretched thighs and his other wove round the back of her shoulders to pull her out from the corner. As soon as Oliver touched her, she seemed to come alive, her eyes widening and her body going rigid.

“No, no, no!” Clarissa cried as Oliver gently tugged her towards him.

Clarissa's fists slammed into Oliver’s chest as he hoisted her into her arms but Oliver didn’t even so much grunt at the weak blows.

“Shh… I’m not here to hurt you,” Oliver attempted to soothe, righting his arms around the girl’s frame so as to properly support her.

_This girl’s light_ , Oliver noted as his arms cradled the girl’s thighs and shoulders, though that wasn’t saying anything when he was used to easily hurling around double this girl’s weight. She stared back at Oliver with green eyes, Clarissa pulling her hands to her chest, seemingly settling at Oliver’s words.

“You’re getting you out of here, but you need to eat something,” Oliver stated, rubbing his gloved fingers over Clarissa’s shoulder.

Turning on his heel, Oliver started to walk back towards Slade, leaving the lantern on the ground beside Sin. Moonlight spilling into the basement from outdoors illuminated some of the staircase and where Slade was standing.

“The cops will be here any minute now, and it’d be really helpful if you could stay and give a statement. I understand if you can’t, though,” Oliver called to the rest of the Omegas in the basement.

Some of these Omegas likely had criminal histories, as a lot of people living in the Glades seemed to. If some of them decided to bolt to want to avoid the police, Oliver couldn’t blame them.

Chatter broke out behind Oliver as he grew further away from the Omegas but his mind was elsewhere. He realised he ought to call Felicity again but his hands were currently occupied. Clarissa needed to eat and drink something as well, but Oliver thought better of taking her up into the house to feed her there. She didn’t need to be any more traumatised by seeing her kidnappers bodies lying on the floor with arrows sticking out of them.

“What’s wrong with ‘er?” Slade queried, tilting his head to one side at the girl in Oliver’s arms.

“I think she’s having a… a diabetic attack,” Oliver started, pretty sure the term he had just said wasn’t correct, “She needs to eat something. I need you to take her though.”

Clarissa stiffened in Oliver’s arms. Looking down at her, Oliver realised she was looking at Slade, almost fearfully.

“Don’t worry,” Oliver smiled at Clarissa, “He’s my friend. Is it alright if he takes you while I call an ambulance?”

“Okay,” Clarissa responded meekly before Oliver passed her into Slade’s arms.

“How do you know all this?” Slade questioned, likely raising an unseen eyebrow at Oliver thinking this girl was having a diabetic attack.

_Tommy’s mom was a Type 1 diabetic,_ Oliver’s mind reminded him. And judging from how young and thin Clarissa looked, Oliver imagined she likely had the same condition. Rather than disclosing the former, Oliver muttered out a quick ‘stay here’ to Slade before trotting up the stairs and out of the basement. Oliver dialed Felicity via his Bluetooth as he climbed into the crisp, evening night. Felicity’s voice quickly chimed into Oliver’s ears.

“Hey, Oliver—” Felicity started before Oliver abruptly cut her off.

“—I need you to call Detective Lance. Make sure they’ve got an ambulance on the way. There’s a girl here I think she’s having a diabetic attack, though I don’t know how serious it is yet,” Oliver explained as he moved back into the house, looking for the kitchen.

“Will do, but do you mean like a hypoglycaemic or a hyperglycemic diabetic attack?” Felicity questioned back, confusion evident in her voice.

“Uhh,” Oliver mumbled, his mind somewhat occupied as he opened a door in the hallway before discerning that it wasn't the kitchen.

“You know when their sugar levels get really low because they haven’t eaten in ages and then they start to get like sick?”

“That’s a hypoglycaemic attack,” Felicity confirmed.

“Well, I think she’s having one of those,” Oliver responded, stepping over the bodies he’d shot in the hallway to enter another room. This looked like the kitchen to Oliver, based off the table in the middle of the room, the fridge, and the cupboards on the wall.

“There should be an ambulance coming anyway but I’ll follow that up with Lance for you,” Felicity stated before hanging up on Oliver.

Oliver quickly rustled through the fridge—that had no power, so clearly all the meat in there was off—and cupboards looking for something sweet that would hopefully pick up Clarissa’s sugar levels. Clarissa had seemed a bit out of it and understandably cowed by the Vigilante and Slade’s presence, but Oliver hoped the girl was conscious enough to eat and drink. He wouldn’t force feed her or anything if she was too drowsy as she could choke.

After a moment of searching, Oliver found an unopened bar of Hershey's chocolate and filled a clean cup with warm Coca-Cola from the fridge. _It will have to do though,_ Oliver thought to himself before leaving the kitchen, food and drink in hand. Grabbing another lantern from the hallway, Oliver returned to the basement to find Clarissa leaning against the staircase’s frame. It was silent again in the room but Slade sprung to his feet from where he’d been crouching next to the girl as Oliver approached them.

“She’s talking but yeah I think you were right that she’s not well. She’s jittery, says she’s got a headache and her vision’s blurry,” Slade reported as Oliver slid down onto the floor beside Clarissa.

“Hi,” Clarissa greeted Oliver meekly. Her knees were pulled up to her chest and her hands were hidden in her lap.

“Hey,” Oliver responded, offering the girl a smile, “It’s not much but I thought you might feel better after you ate something.”

Offering Clarissa the chocolate bar and placing the cup beside her, Oliver felt gratified when she took the chocolate from his hand. Clarissa unwrapped the chocolate before taking a bite out of the slab. She chewed quietly, covering her mouth with her hand before drinking a mouthful of Coca-Cola from the cup.

“Thank you,” she spoke softly, putting the cup back on the ground and returning to the chocolate.

“Don’t mention it,” Oliver returned. Although the girl still didn’t look well, at least she was conscious enough to safely eat on her own.

As if on cue, the high-pitched whirring of the police cars sirens then reached Oliver’s ears.

“I have to go,” Oliver stated as he got to his feet. He and Slade didn’t want to be in here when the SCPD arrived as Oliver was pretty sure he was still on the most wanted list.

Clarissa merely gave Oliver a nod, still nibbling away at the chocolate in her hand.

“The police are nearly here. Take care of yourselves,” Oliver directed towards the other end of the room, where the light in the room illuminated the rest of the Omegas who’d crept out of the shadows to look at the Arrow and his companion.

“Come on, we’re leaving,” Oliver called to Slade as he darted back up the basement stairs, Slade following after him.

xxxxxxxx

Slade and Oliver crouched atop a nearby rooftop watching as the SCPD swarmed the sex trafficker’s house. As they had departed the basement, Oliver had answered Slade’s question as to how he suspected the girl had been having a hypoglycemic (that’s what it was called, thanks Felicity) episode.

He left out any mention of Tommy, not wanting to deal with Slade’s likely question as to who that was, but Oliver explained to the Alpha that one of his friend’s mom had been a Type 1 diabetic. When Oliver was younger and had been over Tommy’s house, he’d seen her injecting herself with a needle of insulin in the stomach and had freaked out at the site of it. Tommy’s mom then had explained to him about her condition and other matters so as to soothe Oliver’s fears as to why she’d looked to have been stabbing herself with something.

For some reason, over the years, Oliver had retained that knowledge. Slade made no comment on the matter and had been relatively quiet as he and Oliver retreated to a vantage point to watch the cops pour onto the scene of the crime.

When Slade turned to face Oliver, he noticed the Omega’s eyes were glued to the sex trafficker’s house.

“And so that’s it?” Slade asked, casting his gaze upon the cop cars and ambulances that filled the street.

“Yep, that’s it,” Oliver responded with a huff.

His mind was elsewhere and Slade accordingly seemed to pick that Oliver was being somewhat quiet—distant.

“You wanted to kill those guys, didn’t you? Or at the very least, you seemed antsy yesterday back in Verdant at the idea that they’d taken that girl,” Slade stated, because none of what he’d just said was a question. Both Slade and Oliver knew this. The Alpha was better at reading Oliver than the Omega likely knew, and Slade had sensed Oliver’s anxiousness over the past 24 hours.

Immediately, Oliver felt very cold inside at Slade’s words, like the temperature of his body had just dropped several degrees. But Oliver knew Slade was unlikely to pass judgement on him so his uneasiness was unwarranted.

Oliver let out a sigh, not meeting Slade’s gaze, unsure of what to say. Of course, ire had begun to bubble up inside of him at people kidnapping Omegas off the streets just so they could sell them to be sexually exploited for profit. Further spite had grown inside Oliver for the Omega’s kidnappers when he realised one of the hostages had been having a hypoglycemic attack. Although Oliver was no expert on diabetes, he was sure Clarissa might have slipped further into unconsciousness and possibly into a coma if she’d been left in that state for much longer. Or worse, she could have died.

Upon seeing Clarissa in her weary state, Oliver’s anger for the sex traffickers had quickly been overwhelmed by his desire to ensure the girl was alright. Trying to get some food into the young Omega to pick up her blood sugars had ranked higher on Oliver’s priority list than potentially wanting to rip the shit out of the men and woman upstairs.

Admittedly, kids and teenagers in danger were Oliver’s emotional weakness, and his wrath came out tenfold when they suffered. _Akio…_ Oliver lamented before Slade’s next words thankfully distracted the Omega’s train of thought.

“Why didn’t you?” Slade poses the question.

Oliver shakes his head, getting to his feet and pulling his gaze away from the sex trafficker’s house. He wasn’t even sure why Slade was curious as to why Oliver had restrained himself from throttling the kidnappers, albeit some of it was definitely in part to Oliver being preoccupied with Clarissa.

The Omega threw a glance over his shoulder to look at Slade, the Alpha still kneeling down.

“ _Look,_ ” Oliver started, his voice firm.

“I’m not going to harp on about morality but… Over the years I’ve learnt that oftentimes good people do bad things. Bad things but with good intentions. The sex traffickers, they were just people too, likely with families and children to feed but without the proper means to provide for them. Crime, murder, and theft has been on the high rise in the city for years now. And the people to blame aren’t those that are forced to scramble over top of one another, clawing for every last morsel of food and medicine they can get, but the 1 percenters in Starling City that stole from everyone else in the first place.

“Who am I to pass judgement on people, some of whom are truly just desperate people doing desperate things? Let the law and everyone else pass judgement on them instead.”

Slade was silent at Oliver’s explanation, the Alpha’s mask preventing Oliver from being able to discern anything from Slade’s expression. The Alpha barely looked at Oliver, his hands merely twitching in front of him, before Slade muttered out an ‘I understand, kid’.

_Oh,_ Oliver imagined his words might have stirred unwelcome memories of the past from within Slade. Previously forgotten thoughts were also creeping to the forefront of Oliver’s mind at the mention of why he didn’t murder the sex traffickers. Oliver is reminded of Slade’s blood money and where it no doubt came from, something he had yet to allude to Slade that he’d figured out himself. The former was likely what was weighing on Slade’s mind currently and Oliver felt like he needed to let his Alpha know that it was _okay_ , that Slade didn’t have to tell Oliver anything.

Watching Slade out of the corner of his gaze, Oliver knew he had to say something but he wanted to break the ice on the subject first. He and Slade both seemed to clam up when people mentioned their pasts.

Oliver turned on his heel to face his Alpha.

“Hey, Slade, I know things mustn't have been easy for you over the past couple years.”

Slade let out a hmm, his eyes seeking out Oliver’s. And maybe it was the stony, serious expression on Oliver’s face that then caused Slade to abruptly snap to his feet. The Alpha’s hands were curled into themselves—a nervous gesture, Oliver ascertained, Slade looking like he could turn to run from him at a moment’s notice.

_Damn,_ Oliver cursed inwards to himself as his face loosened into a neutral expression. Now he’d made Slade uncomfortable. Even all the armour Slade was wearing couldn’t hide the fact that his body looked to have gone completely rigid.

Oliver knew he ought to quickly say something in an attempt to relieve his Alpha’s distress, but the serious approach only seemed to be making Slade feel bad. So instead, Oliver just decided to let whatever else he could think of spill out of his mouth.

Walking over to Slade, Oliver’s hand squeezed over the Alpha’s tight shoulder as he spoke directly over Slade’s ear.

“But… no more killing and no more mercenary fun times either,” Oliver cooed, a slight smile on his face.

There were both silent for a moment until Slade let out a dry laugh.

Slade drew back from Oliver, noticing the hint of glee on Oliver’s face before clapping his hand over Oliver’s shoulder.

“I’ll have you know it’s been awhile. And they were not fun times either…” Slade remarked, before quickly sliding his gaze away from Oliver.

“Uhh…” Slade let out uneasily, his hand falling away from Oliver, “It’d be stupid if I asked you what gave it away, wouldn’t it?”

Despite the mask over Slade’s face, Oliver could tell his Alpha was still slightly distressed. Emotions played at Oliver’s heartstrings making him think that Slade possibly imagined Oliver was disappointed with him.

Swiftly, Oliver made to quash that fear in Slade as he wrapped his arms around Slade’s neck. Oliver pulled the Alpha towards him in his embrace and locked their gazes.

“You didn’t exactly launder your money,” Oliver started playfully, before softening his tone, “But don’t apologise. It’s behind us now. I’m not going to pretend to know what you’ve been through over the past couple years. And frankly, I’m not bothered by it, we’re here now and that’s all that matters.”

As if to emphasise his point, Oliver then dropped his forehead forward onto Slade’s mask.

After a moment of silence, Slade’s hands moved from lying stiffly by his sides to across the small of Oliver’s back. The smile on Oliver’s face grew as Slade’s arms wrapped around his waist, pulling their bodies flush together, and Slade’s fingers trailed up his back. Slade’s head rested on Oliver’s shoulder and Oliver allowed himself to do the same on Slade’s.

It was a bit odd to hug Slade when he was wearing his mercenary equipment, what with all the Kevlar preventing Oliver from actually touching Slade. He couldn’t feel the warmth that naturally emanated from Slade’s skin and the padding up Slade’s arms partially muted the feeling of comfort Oliver got from having Slade just hold him. But none of the former really mattered though as when Slade pulled his head out of the crook of Oliver’s neck, Oliver could tell their embrace had the needed effect on Slade.

“You’re such a bastard, kid. You can’t spring shit like that on me outta nowhere. I’ll let it slide this time though,” Slade laughed.

The moonlight allowed Oliver to catch the glint of amusement in Slade’s eyes and he let out a chuckle of his own.

“Come on, let’s go home. I owe you dinner, don’t I?” Oliver offered.

“It’s not like you’re cooking it though,” Slade retorted.

If Oliver had been able to see Slade’s face at the time, he’s sure the Alpha would have been grinning.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations from Spanish:
> 
> Flecha — Arrow
> 
> La virgen de guadalupe ha respondido a mis oraciones — The Virgin of Guadalupe has answered my prayers
> 
> Amigo - Friend
> 
> Si - Yes
> 
> Ese es el amigo de la flecha — That’s the arrow’s friend
> 
> xxxxxxxx
> 
>   
> Got the translations from the internet, so there’s a decent chance they’re off. Feel free to correct me on them though if you know Spanish.
> 
> As always, thank you for reading and I’d love to hear your thoughts on this chapter.
> 
> Tumblr: sladiver.


	19. The Speculators and The Spectators

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Four years ago from today I published the first chapter of _Reap What You Sow_. And although canon has marched on and my interest in the show has varied a lot at times, here I am still in love with this pairing and continuing this story. I’d like to thank everyone for their continued support and enthusiasm for this story. Thank you all and enjoy.

When Slade and Oliver arrived back at Verdant, Dig and Felicity were already there. As Oliver recounted what had happened at the sex trafficker’s house—with Slade chiming in his input every now and then—he and Slade began to change back into civilian clothes. They were still having dinner at Slade’s after this brief stop to the foundry.

Oliver was just telling his friends about the young Omega’s diabetic episode when Oliver’s eyes caught sight of Slade. Slade had just slid off his shirt, discarding it onto a table along with his Kevlar and swords. The Omega trailed off at the end of his sentence, his gaze glued to his Alpha's naked chest as if he’d never seen it before. Warmth began to pool in Oliver’s stomach and a distinct tingling feeling ran down his spine as his eyes mapped every detail of his Alpha’s physique.

There was something very different but equally attractive about a male lover’s body—what the hell, since when did Oliver’s mind start associating Slade and lover in the same sentence—as opposed to a female’s. Women, like Laurel, were usually thin and fine beneath Oliver’s frame, whereas Slade was all toned muscles with an ability to bundle Oliver into his arms in a way the Omega hadn’t let anyone else do. Slade’s body was also abnormally warm all the time, due to the Mirakuru, but it reminded Oliver of the sun’s rays.

Unlike himself, Slade’s skin was also very clean, mostly free of scars, flesh smooth and even when Oliver had caressed his calloused fingers over it during their times in bed together. Kevlar and an unnaturally fast ability to heal clearly did Slade wonders.

His Alpha’s five o'clock shadow was a bitch though, as even if they both trimmed their stubble in the mornings, by the time Oliver went to nestle his head into the crook of Slade’s shoulder to fall asleep in the evening, the Alpha’s facial hair was prickling him like a damn porcupine. He’d scolded Slade telling the older man that he needed to be introduced to some moisturiser or shave later in the day, otherwise Slade could forget about so much as trying to kiss him.

Slade kinda was Oliver’s Mr. Tall—okay, not quite as tall as him—, Dark, and Handsome.

Oliver has no idea how much time has passed—and almost doesn’t care as his eyes continued to trail over every visible muscle in Slade’s shoulders and arms—but Slade speaking then abruptly jolted his mind back to the present.

“Yeah, the girl was buggered, she wasn’t well,” Slade stated, seeming to have picked up from where Oliver left off, speaking about Clarissa.

“Kid handed her to me while he went upstairs to fix her some food,” Slade continued, but at that point Oliver began to tune out to his Alpha’s words, his gaze scanning over the room.

A wave of relief washed over Oliver when he realised none of his friends had been staring at him because he’d grown quiet. He mustn’t have spaced out for that long as Slade was still peeling himself out of seemingly layers upon layers of mercenary equipment while Oliver stood off to the side, already re-dressed in casual clothes.

As Slade spoke, the Alpha moved to tug his cargo pants off. At this moment, Oliver made sure to drag his gaze away from Slade, sure the Alpha’s increasingly naked state wouldn’t help the feeling of his skin growing flushed.

When he and Slade were in private, it was all well and good for him to ogle the Alpha’s body, but Dig and Felicity did not need to catch him doing so.

Oliver let out an exhale that thankfully no one else noticed.

_Yeah…_ he’s definitely been becoming increasingly horny over the past couple weeks. Either a lack of sex was causing him to become gradually more sexually frustrated over time, or he’s just being hormonal because he’s going into heat. Or both, that’d be the worst case scenario.

A new voice speaking drew Oliver from his thoughts.

“Well that was easy,” Felicity remarked with a beaming smile, the Beta still leaning over her desk from where she’d been listening to Oliver and Slade’s tale.

“I mean, easy for me, not necessarily for you two,” the Beta corrected herself, “I didn’t really have to do anything but it looks like you guys didn’t have to do too much either. It’s good that nobody was hurt. I mean you guys and the hostages weren’t hurt. Not the sex traffickers, obviously you guys hurt them.”

Diggle fixed Oliver with a raised brow from where he was leaning against a pillar.

“So, Terrence and co. were just looking to sell the Omegas for profit… nothing else?” Dig asked, Oliver knowing what he was alluding to based off the stare he and Dig exchanged.

Oliver gave Dig small nod.

“I didn’t bother with an interrogation, leave that for the SCPD, but that’s the assumption at this point.”

Slade let out a low noise from where he was still stood beside Oliver, the Alpha finally done undressing and now slipping back into a black T-shirt.

“A safe assumption, mind you,” Slade addressed Oliver as if the Omega had just doubted his scenting ability, before Slade turned to Diggle.

“All the Omega’s scents were clean and unmuddied. If any Betas or Alphas had been on ‘em recently, I’d have smelt it.”

_I hope you’re right,_ Oliver refrained from saying as he watched his Alpha finish getting dressed. He knew he shouldn’t doubt Slade’s scenting ability—and Oliver didn’t—it was just that after enduring several years of torment and terror, Oliver had come to always expect the worst from situations. Hearing about the sex traffickers again had swiftly put a dampener on whatever sexual arousal he felt for Slade though.

Felicity’s gaze flitted between Oliver and Slade as the Beta tapped a pen against her cheek absentmindedly.

“Now that Slade’s a member of Team Arrow, does he get a codename?” Felicity queried.

“I don’t want a codename,” Slade was quick to retort, the Alpha folding his arms over his chest.

_We do not call ourselves Team Arrow_ , Oliver thought to himself. But rather than dismissing Felicity’s name for their group, Oliver instead looked at Slade, giving the Alpha a shake of his head.

“It’s not like you’ll get much of a choice. Once the press gets a hold of a picture of you they’ll slap a label on you and that’ll stick. It’s not like I decided I wanted to be called the Vigilante, the Hood, the Arrow, or anything like that.”

Slade grumbled.

“Well I already follow your lead and mostly stick to the shadows as it is, so let’s just keep it that way, kid,” Slade stated in a tone that left little room for discussion.

Despite Slade glancing away from Oliver, the Omega allowed the beginnings of a smile to form on his face. Just because Slade didn’t want the media slapping a codename on him didn’t at all reduce the likelihood that it wouldn’t happen. It did warm Oliver’s heart to hear Slade recognise him as in charge though. The Alpha may have bossed him around on the island but here in Starling Oliver was going to be calling the shots when it came to missions.

 “Calling it now, Slade’s codename’s going to be Blade,” Felicity whispered quietly to Diggle beside her even as Slade and Oliver turned in their direction.

“So, mission accomplished. I think this calls for a celebratory dinner,” Felicity suggested, straightening up in her chair.

“What for?” Oliver asked, quirking an eyebrow back at the Beta.

She couldn’t have been suggesting that they’d do anything tonight, surely? He and Slade already had plans. Plans that had already been delayed once and Oliver wasn’t about to postpone them again tonight.

Felicity ceased tapping the pen she had in her hand against her cheek before tilting her head to one side.

“Well shouldn't we do something special to celebrate a successful mission and the official welcoming of your Alpha to the team.”

“Uhh,” a stunned, stupid noise left Oliver’s lips.

It sounded odd to Oliver’s ears hearing Felicity acknowledge Slade as his Alpha. The fact that he was going steady with Slade Wilson and his friends and mom were okay with that still seemed all too good to be true.

Slade was then beside Oliver, leaning his head in towards the Omega.

“Y’know, I would appreciate not having to cook every once in a while,” Slade quipped.

“Not tonight though,” Oliver returned at the mere idea that Slade would try to weasel out of making him dinner in the next hour.

It had to be nearing eleven, Oliver suspected without checking his phone, and he hadn’t eaten since midday. Depending on whatever Slade decided to cook up for them, Oliver would still be waiting a little while to eat. If Slade had kangaroo Oliver would be requesting that—where did Slade get his meat from anyway—as there was minimal fat in the meat and the animal had a distinctly tangy, gamey taste that reminded Oliver of other wildlife Slade had cooked for him on Lian Yu. Today, Oliver was feeling like a stir fry or a steak, but he’d also eat whatever Slade planned on making.

 “Of _course_ Oliver would luck out with an Alpha who can cook,” Felicity almost-groaned, giving Oliver a slight eye-roll but the Beta maintained a light-hearted grin on her face.

“Kid doesn't let us do public dinners. He's still gotta tell his sis about us, doesn’t want her finding out about us via the paparazzi,” Slade explained to which Oliver crossed his arms at.

He hadn’t told Dig and Felicity that his mom knew about him and Slade. Seeing as Oliver hadn’t had to approach his mother with the topic of his and Slade’s relationship, he had no prior experience in how he would go about bringing said information up to Thea.

Before Oliver could utter out an explanation for not talking to his sister sooner, Slade beat him to speaking.

“She doesn’t know about your dynamic either now, does she?”

Oliver gave Slade a slight nod, not sure how to respond to what felt like continual pestering as to why he hadn’t revealed his secrets to Thea yet.

“Wouldn’t be surprised then if she flips out about you being an Omega. It might soften the blow of her finding out you’re seeing an Alpha though,” Slade shrugged before growing quiet.

“I'll tell Thea when I'm ready, I just… haven’t found the right time for it yet,” Oliver sighed, his gaze seeking out a wall.

He wasn’t sure how Thea would take finding out about just some of his many secrets. Accordingly, Oliver wanted to allocate plenty of time to plead his case for not telling her sooner if Thea got irate with him. Roy and Thea spent a lot of time together and that made finding the appropriate time to talk to his sister somewhat difficult.

A moment of silence passed in which Oliver imagined his friends must have realised the current topic made him slightly uncomfortable. Oliver was still observing a crack in the wall when the cheery chime of Felicity’s voice re-drew his attention.

“Well, it’d be the four of us. So, it’s not like you and Slade would stand out by being together,” Felicity exclaimed as if she’d just had a light bulb moment of realisation.

_Yes, that’d be nice,_ Oliver caught himself thinking before his brain could muster up any excuses as to why going out with his friends and Slade was a bad idea. Slade and his friends only knew each other within the mostly professional confines of the foundry, so getting them more properly acquainted with one another in a more casual environment could likely only bolster relations between all of them.

“When were you thinking, Felicity?” Oliver posed the question back.

“Tomorrow night, so long as nothing like tonight comes up again,” the Beta female suggests, “Does anyone have any preferences as to where?”

A chorus of responses then ensued from the men in the room.

“Just not seafood,” Oliver responded flatly, while Slade commented with ‘a steakhouse’.

“I’m easy,” Diggle reported from beside Felicity where he flashed the Beta a smile.

“Wow, you guys are boring, aren’t you?” Felicity stated, flicking her eyes over the men in question. The Beta flopped back into her chair momentarily before voicing her next idea.

“Should we go to the Outback Steakhouse? You’re from Australia right, Slade? The food at the Outback’s all based off Australian cuisine so you should feel right at home.”

Slade nodded, though in confirmation to what Oliver didn’t know as the Alpha’s next words were:

“So long as they’ve got piss, I’m easy as well.”

Oliver watched as Felicity and Diggle both grew wide-eyed, the Beta female even dropping her mouth open slightly in a look of utter confusion. _Great_ , Oliver mentally sighed at the words that had just left Slade’s lips.

As Slade was still stood beside him, Oliver swatted the back of his knuckles over Slade’s abdomen, not bothering to restrain his backhand. Evidently, Oliver should have just outrighted punched the older man as Slade didn’t even so much as grunt at Oliver hitting him. ( _Note to self, devise ways of hurting Slade through his Mirakuru defenses for usage when necessary.)_

“Alcohol, he means alcohol,” Oliver explained, before turning back to look at Slade with furrowed brows.

_Yeah…_ this is why his friends and Slade had yet to become better acquainted. Because Slade was a foul-mouthed Australian and some of the things he could come out with could possibly shock both Diggle and Felicity into silence. Slade’s crassness had already become all too familiar to Oliver.

The Alpha just stared back at Oliver, his mask a blank slate like Slade didn’t understand that he’d done anything wrong.

“Well, that’s a relief,” Dig exhaled.

Shaking his head, Oliver ceased glaring daggers at Slade to address his friends.

“I should have let you know earlier that sometimes Slade is just… _himself_ ,” Oliver attempted to explain before frowning at Slade again.

“You know you can’t talk like that in front of my family.”

Slade tsked, stretching his arms out in front of him so he could crack his knuckles.

“Well, sorry I’m not sorry kid for the way I was raised. Whenever we go see the bird on the perch, I’ll behave then.”

_What and who is the bird on the perch,_ Oliver thought to himself but didn’t get a chance to question Slade’s choice of words.

“I’m sure Thea and your mom will like Slade,” Felicity said with a smile from where she’d been watching the Alpha and Omega’s antics.

The Omega let out a huff, shrugging his shoulders.

“So long as they never hear him talk like that.”

Oliver then excused himself and Slade as he and his Alpha began to depart Verdant. Though not before Felicity chimed after Oliver with:

“Don’t forget, you and I are having a movie day on Saturday so don’t go making plans with Slade now.”

“I won’t,” Oliver responded as he and Slade were leaving. A movie day was what he and Felicity had agreed upon as per Oliver’s recompense for keeping her and Dig in the dark about his relationship with Slade for so long.

When Oliver and Slade left the foundry, Felicity wheeled her computer chair back under her desk. Quickly, the Beta pulled up the surveillance footage from outside Verdant, watching as Slade and Oliver pottered over to a car parked in the alleyway.

Felicity blinked at the image before looking over her shoulder at Dig.

“Slade owns a Lamborghini, clearly he is Oliver’s Alpha,” Felicity marvelled, partially confused but also not surprised.

xxxxxxxx

The next evening, Oliver found himself back in the Glades. Something had been nagging at his mind all day and he felt a compulsion to return to this part of the city. Mainly, Sin’s house.

Sin’s place was the same as Oliver remembered it from two nights ago, Oliver letting himself in via the broken front door. It had probably taken a beating when the sex traffickers had forced their way in here. Somehow, the door produced minimal noise when Oliver slid past it.

Inside the house, Oliver noticed that the fairy lights strung over the bed didn’t quite illuminate where he was standing. They did however cast a dull glow over a figure on the mattress. Slipping out of the shadows, Oliver was unsurprised when Sin startled at the sight of him

“ _Jesus!”_ Sin cried, dropping the phone she was holding out of her hands.

Oliver halted a couple metres in front of Sin, averting his gaze when he noticed she had no top on and was only wearing a bra. The sound of ruffling made Oliver think Sin must have been tugging her threadbare sheets up over her scantily clad chest. After a moment, Oliver allowed his gaze to slide back over to the young Omega, finding Sin staring back at him. She was leaning against the wall behind her, one hand resting over the blanket she was holding to keep it above her collarbone.

“I’m not here to hurt you,” Oliver placated, holding out his free hand towards the girl.

Sin gawked at him for a moment wide-eyed before the Omega flopped back down onto her bed.

“You didn’t think to at least knock?” Sin asked flatly, picking up her phone again from where it had landed amongst the sheets.

_No_ , Oliver hadn’t thought of that. He was a mostly habitual creature after all and the majority of the time he entered buildings it was stealthily and with the intention of putting the fear of the Vigilante into someone.

 “Are you alright after last night?” Oliver queried, sidestepping Sin’s question in favour of his own.

The Omega wrinkled her nose at him.

“Can we just cut to the bit as to why you're in my house?”

A part of Oliver wondered if Sin was naturally a jaded individual or if his sudden appearance in her house had just thoroughly unimpressed her. Regardless, Oliver stepped forwards, placing the plastic bag he’d been carrying on the floor in front of the bed, before backing away from Sin.

“Your scent’s too potent and in the Glades, that’s a problem,” Oliver stated, watching as Sin’s eyes flicked over the bag but she didn’t go to grab it.

Having sprayed scent neturaliser on himself recently—which did a pretty good job of overwhelming his olfactory system with sterile nothingness—Oliver couldn't detect much of Sin’s scent but his words still rung true. Really, the fact that Sin was an Omega and Omegas factually produced stronger smells than Betas wasn’t the problem. The problem was people like the sex traffickers who’d obviously been in contact with individuals who’d pay a hefty profit for a young Omega they could take advantage of.

_Well, nobody tried to rape me this time, that was a relief,_ Sin’s words from last night echoed in Oliver’s mind. _No,_ Oliver reminded himself, sex traffickers weren’t the only problem in the Glades. Lone wolves also existed that would take pleasure in sexually abusing Omegas.

“You’re not on suppressants, are you?” Oliver asked, focusing back on the task at hand. Slade’s comments from last night about Sin’s scent had already told Oliver the answer to the former but Oliver merely wanted to gauge Sin’s knowledge of scent-concealing and muting agents.

Sin raised her arms and shoulders in a shrug, fixing the Arrow with a look like she thought he was stupid.

“No, where the hell am I supposed to get the money for that?”

Oliver pointed at the bag on the floor.

“You know how scent concealment agents work, right?” Oliver began, before ascertaining that Sin was watching him, listening, and that he could continue.

“You put it on daily or as often as needed, use it like deodorant and it’ll mask your natural scent. There’s the Beta spray and other items with similar effects such as Beta-scented soap in the bag. They’ll fail to mask your scent if you’re in heat though. There’s also suppressants in the bag. There should be enough there to last you a couple months. Take one daily to control when you go into heat. You can go off them monthly or bi-monthly for a couple days to allow your body to go into heat when it naturally would. Or you can keep taking the pills continually until your body forces you to go into heat. The former is likely the better option for you as you can organise to get your heat out of the way rather than letting it sneak up on you.”

As Oliver finished his explanation, Sin quirked a brow at him.

“And you know all this, _why_?” Sin asked.

“I’ve been around for a while,” Oliver responded.

The thought flitted through Oliver’s mind that now would be an optimal time to ask Sin who this Canary vigilante was that she’d mentioned last night. Oliver mentally scratched the idea as he was already almost positive that Sara was this Canary character and he’d already likely unnerved Sin enough with just his mere presence.

“Just look after yourself,” Oliver addressed Sin, before turning on his heel to leave.

Letting himself out of Sin’s house, Oliver stepped back out into the crisp, but tolerable, springtime air that characterised February. Darkness hung over the street, most of the lampposts without power, and as such, it took Oliver’s eyes a moment to find Slade. The Alpha was leaning against a decrepit building, and if wasn’t for the flashes of orange breaking up his otherwise monochromatic mercenary gear, Slade would have blended into the night perfectly.

Oliver made a beeline for Slade.

Earlier this evening, he’d briefed his friends and Slade that he wanted to check on Sin before they headed out to dinner. Despite Oliver making it clear to everyone that he’d be quick, he was just going to drop off some suppressants for the young Omega, Slade had still insisted on coming along although there’d be nothing for him to do.

“What took yah so long, I thought this was supposed to be a straight-in, straight-out job?” Slade asked, a hint of annoyance evident in his voice as Oliver strolled over to him.

“Come on, we’re leaving,” Oliver informed the Alpha, ignoring Slade’s former remark.

He continued walking, Slade expectedly falling in step beside him. His bike was parked just past the stalagmite-like concrete up the street as the Undertaking had made it virtually impossible to drive on some of the roads in the Glades.

**“** You clucky or something? All these Betas and Omegas you dote over like a mother hen,” Slade remarked, almost tauntingly.

At Slade’s statement, Oliver scowled, sure that Slade had to be wearing a sardonic grin right now despite that Oliver couldn’t see it. Oliver knew Slade liked to ‘take the piss out of him’ as the Alpha would call it, but usually Slade was just teasing him over things he had perfectly good reasons for.

“Give it a rest will you, old man?” Oliver sighed, not wanting to give Slade the satisfaction of getting a rise from him, “And what the hell does clucky mean, anyway?”

Slade leaned his head in close towards Oliver’s.

“Like you wanna have a baby,” Slade explained before making a mock kissing noise.

As soon as those words left the Alpha’s lips, Oliver’s open palm connected with Slade’s shoulder or rather, the thick padding protecting the Alpha’s shoulder.

“Like _hell_ I want a baby,” Oliver retorted, lowering his hand back by his side.

“That was weak, kid.”

The Omega shot Slade a glare.

 “Take off all that shit you’re wearing and then let me punch you.”

Just ahead, Oliver could see the handlebars of his bike peeking out from behind a large, uprooted slab of concrete.

“You gonna be a miserable old, childless spinster are you?” Slade asked jovially.

Oliver halted in front of an upturned piece of road but didn’t hop over it.

_I’m not miserable, I have you,_ Oliver thought to himself as he turned to face Slade. The Omega refrained from voicing the former though as Slade was still sort of implying that he was going to be a spinster.

“I thought to be a spinster you had to be single and not Bonded. If I’m pseudo-Bonded _to you_ , how can I be a spinster any time soon?” Oliver questioned his Alpha.

Slade shook his head before slinging his arm around Oliver’s shoulder. The Alpha pulled their bodies close together, Slade giving Oliver’s head a nudge with his own.

“Forget it, kid,” Slade remarked, “Why’d we have to do this before dinner anyway? I’m hungry. Let’s head back to Verdant.”

xxxxxxxx

It was after seven when Oliver found himself and his friends walking to the Outback Steakhouse. Finding a park downtown in Starling City could be nothing short of a nightmare, so Diggle had left the car a couple blocks away from their actual destination. Felicity led the way to the restaurant, Dig flanking her right side, while Oliver and Slade followed behind them.

While they weren’t quite in the heart of the city, this area was still a bustle of activity. There were people everywhere, most of whom looked to be pouring into or out of the restaurants, bars, and retailers that filled the street.

Oliver’s eyes instinctively scanned over his surroundings, over the many individuals who strolled past him, as if the Omega was suddenly expecting someone to recognise him. But, no one seemed to pay Oliver any mind and so the Omega ceased his crowd-watching as clearly doing so was just filling his head with unnecessary thoughts.

Despite the fact that he really… shouldn’t care if anyone looked at him and Slade and thought they were an item—which no one likely would think that currently as he and Slade were just _walking_ side-by-side—Oliver did care about the paparazzi spreading photos of them. While neither himself nor Slade appeared to be openly comfortable with public displays of affection that would give anyone reasonable evidence to think that they were a couple, Oliver was also sure that if he so much as _leaned_ on Slade, someone would snap an image of them and spread it around with some scandalous headline.

A headline his younger sister might read causing her to wonder as to why her brother hadn’t told her about this ‘new’ boyfriend he had. Thea might also be surprised to learn that _yes_ , he liked guys as well as girls, Oliver just hadn’t exactly dated other men before.

Oliver looked over at Slade, the Alpha quirking his lips up into a smile as their eyes met.

Although the two of them hadn’t been out together in public before—barring the time he and Slade spent the day together in the next town over—Slade looked quite content walking beside Oliver. Slade was dressed in a brown leather jacket and jeans, a far cry from the dress shirts and slacks Oliver was used to seeing the Alpha wear when they did private ‘dates’. But, tonight was just a nice, casual evening between friends and Oliver suspected that he and Slade would be more comfortable around one another because of that.

_I’ll tell Thea soon_ , Oliver promised himself. Not because he didn’t want Thea prying into his business trying to find out who this new boyfriend of his was but because it was only right that, as his sister, she knew about his dynamic.

“I made sure to book us a booth table up the back of the restaurant. That way you and Slade can suck face as much as you want,” Felicity spoke, drawing Oliver’s attention from his thoughts. The Beta flashed Oliver a smile over her shoulder before turning her attention back to where she was walking.

“We do not suck face,” Oliver responded automatically, furrowing his brows slightly even as Felicity paid him no mind.

Out of his peripheral vision, he caught Slade staring at him. Slade craned his head in towards Oliver and whispered, “At least, not in front of your friends we won’t be having a good pash.”

Oliver let out a low growl.

“Don’t you start,” Oliver muttered in Slade’s ear, “You know, sometimes I want to punch you but I acknowledge that’s unlikely to actually hurt you. One day I might just have to poison you with death adder venom to get my point across.”

A part of Oliver acknowledged that he didn’t actually want to hurt Slade, he was all just talk. His irritation was likely coming from a place of pent up sexual energy, which he hadn’t told Slade about either so it’s not like he could even blame the Alpha for not assisting him in getting off.

Suddenly, Slade’s arm was then around Oliver’s neck as the Alpha pulled Oliver towards him.

“Lighten up, kid, otherwise I’m gonna need to start you on some Scotch real soon,” Slade joked.

Oliver didn’t comment that he had no intention of getting plastered tonight. Slade’s arm slung over his shoulder, the Alpha’s hand just ever so slightly clasped into Oliver’s peacoat, made the Omega forget about addressing Slade with any sort of pointed tone. He let himself lean on Slade slightly as they ambled along, Oliver no longer caring that in doing so he was giving the paparazzi a perfectly good reason to take photos of them.

Warm fuzzy sensations filled Oliver’s chest.

Slade inhaling deeply caused Oliver to throw him a glance, Oliver anticipating Slade to make a comment about his scent. Albeit his Omega scent wouldn’t be easy for Slade to detect beneath the thick layer of Beta cologne he was wearing.

“Diggle’s scent seemingly has more Beta intermingled with it every time I see him,” Slade commented softly to Oliver.

“That’s Lyla, or… I think it’s Lyla at least. I haven’t really smelt her before. She’s Diggle’s ex-wife who he recently started seeing again,” Oliver responded in an equally quiet tone.

Since they rescued Lyla from prison in Russia, Oliver knew Diggle had taken to seeing Lyla again. That was three months ago and since then Oliver hadn’t exactly asked Diggle if he and Lyla were _just_ dating or actually in a committed relationship again.

Slade stifled a chuckle.

“Oh, so Diggle and the ex-missus are actually working things out. Fuck, there’s a one-in-a-million story right there.”

_No more a one-in-a-million story than the two of_ us _sorting things out,_ Oliver’s mind offered but he kept that thought to himself.

“Dig,” Oliver started, drawing the Alpha’s attention, “So you and Lyla going steady now?”

Diggle smiled.

“What makes you think that?” Dig posed the question back, craning his head over his shoulder to look at Oliver.

Oliver’s eyes flicked to Slade then back to Diggle.

“Slade picked it in your scent.”

“Nosy bastard,” Dig smirked before his gaze left Oliver’s.

But the grin that had been on Dig’s face told Oliver that he wasn’t displeased with Slade revealing that piece of information.

Felicity didn’t comment much on the matter as when they rounded a street corner, the Beta quickly pointed out the Outback Steakhouse to everyone. When the four of them pottered up to the restaurant, Felicity conversed with a staff member there before they were directed to sit at a table on the far side of the restaurant.

Felicity and Dig sat on one side of the table while Oliver and Slade slid onto the booth seat opposite them. There was minimal chit-chat between them as everyone perused the diner’s menu and a waitress came to take their order. Once the waitress was gone, Felicity turned her attention to Slade.

“So, you’re staying here in Starling now right, Slade?” Felicity asked.

Slade looked at Oliver beside him, the Omega staring back at the Alpha with a raised brow, before Slade turned back to Felicity.

“Guess I’m going to have to,” Slade let out, sounding almost deflated.

Oliver shot Slade a glare as if to say _you’re not going anywhere_ but the Omega remained silent.

“If you and Oliver are going to be out together a lot, should I set up a tracker and Bluetooth for you?” Felicity queried, referring to Slade having recently joined Oliver in the vigilante patrol business. The ambient noise in the restaurant was loud enough that the Beta thought it seemed safe enough for them to subtly talk about the former.

“Bluetooth, no,” Slade shook his head. “That’s Oliver’s division, not mine. Don’t ask me to be calling any shots ‘round here. Tracker’s fine though, I’m guessing it’ll just go in my boot like Oliver’s.”

Felicity nodded.

“Alrighty then, I’ll get that sorted. And if you wanna give me your phone number I can keep you in the loop of what’s happening. Seeing as the three of us usually sit around Oliver’s desk discussing how we’re going to be spending our evenings.”

“Of course you do,” Slade murmured lowly before letting out a chuckle. The Beta’s words made Slade picture Oliver and his friends sitting around Queen Consolidated talking about recent outbreaks of crime. Which Slade didn’t imagine to be too far from the truth. Slade did unlock his phone before passing it across the table to Felicity though.

While Felicity programmed her number (and Diggle’s) into Slade’s phone and vice versa, the men at the table began to converse. When Felicity returned the Alpha’s phone, Slade pocketed it before his hand settled on the leather seat of the chair beside Oliver’s.

Oliver had to refrain from glancing down at the placement of his and Slade’s hands as he finished the sentence he was speaking. He suspected that was Slade’s index finger atop his thumb. Out of his peripheral vision, Oliver saw Slade flick his eyes down to the space between them—to their hands. Although Oliver ceased looking at Slade out of his periphery, diverting his attention back to where Dig was talking about why Lyla had been working late as of recently, the Omega did flip his hand palm side up on the seat. Within moments of doing so, Oliver felt Slade’s fingers slot between his splayed own.

Slade clasped his hand around Oliver’s and Oliver clasped back, relishing the warmth of Slade’s palm against his.

“So Oliver, did you see the 6 o’clock news?” Felicity queried, shaking her head almost immediately after those words left her lips.

“Why did I ask you that? I know where you were at 6 o’clock, you and Slade were out. But I was at Verdant watching the channel 7 news—isn’t it odd how the channel 7 news is on at 6—and I figured between now and then—”

“ _Felicity,”_ Oliver cut the Beta female off firmly, knowing she could go on for quite a while without actually getting to the point of what she wanted to say.

“What was on the news?”

“Ah, well, you and Slade, obviously. But… not actually you and Slade, you know what I mean. The media however, was not able to spin last night’s story into more anti-vigilante hate speech. Mhm, it was a super good watch. Detective Lance was there and the SCPD had nothing mean-spirited to say about you,” Felicity explained, cheerfully.

Slade scowled at the Beta’s words prompting Oliver to rub his thumb over the back of the Alpha’s hand.

“Seems like you guys did good,” Diggle added despite the look of irritation that had just crossed Slade’s face.

“I was unaware that we’d been spotted though,” Slade stated, turning to look at Oliver.

“You weren’t,” Felicity advised, Slade’s gaze sliding back over to her.

“Some of the Omegas that had been kidnapped reported a masked figure in black and orange accompanying the Arrow, _but_ no photographic evidence exists to back that up. Lance was asked to provide a statement on the possible existence of another vigilante and he didn’t even seem convinced that the so-called ‘Walking Halloween Store’ existed. So, your secret’s still safe with us, Slade. Also, the ‘[Jason Voorhees](https://www.google.ae/search?sa=X&biw=1440&bih=826&q=Jason+Voorhees&stick=H4sIAAAAAAAAAOPgE-LUz9U3sDA3zSpSAjMNy3MzCrXks5Ot9NMyc3LBRHxxalFmarFVckZiUWJySWpRMQA8cHKxOQAAAA&ved=0ahUKEwiNgZXams_YAhVCTLwKHZSKD7MQmxMI0gEoATAh) Cosplayer’ is not a codename so you don’t have to worry about that either.”

Diggle and Oliver simultaneously both let out a small laugh at the Beta’s words. Slade shot Oliver a slight glare but the Omega merely cocked his head to one side at the Alpha.

“We’ll just stick to calling you my shadow for now,” Oliver suggested, giving Slade’s hand a tight squeeze to hopefully appease the Alpha.

This seemed to satisfy Slade as when Felicity swiftly changed the subject from the one at hand, Slade didn’t protest any further at whatever labels the media had associated with him.

Only when their drinks and starters arrived did Slade and Oliver have to break their hands apart from where they’d been subtly holding them together. Though, once they’d finished picking at their shared plate of garlic bread, Slade and Oliver’s hands intertwined again, under the table and out of sight.

As the evening went by, Oliver felt his friends warming more and more to Slade. This was evident to Oliver by the fact that Dig and Felicity asked the Alpha more questions to get to know him better and Slade responded to them quite openly. He rattled off answers, most of which Oliver was already aware of such as the fact that he was from Darwin, he was an only child, he joined Cadets when he was 16 and the army at 18. Something that Oliver hadn’t known about Slade was that the Alpha had visited 24 countries—visited being the keyword as, in Slade’s words, some of those places were such shitholes one wouldn’t want to actually explore them. This was technically still Slade’s first time in Starling City though Diggle and Felicity knew better than to question what brought the Alpha here in the first place.

Oliver sipped at his beer. It was something sort of bitter that Slade had ordered for him as it was something the Alpha was familiar with from back in Australia. Now that Oliver was on his second drink he was starting to feel more relaxed, to the point where he was comfortable allowing his body to lean onto Slade’s. Despite that he was doing so in front of his friends, Oliver quickly found his body flush with Slade’s, their shoulder and thighs touching. For some reason, he and Slade were still holding hands under the table though.

_Yes, this is good,_ Oliver thought to himself.

xxxxxxxx

“Yo, this place is a ghost town,” Sin mused aloud upon walking into Verdant, jingling her keys to the club in her hand.

Only Roy and Thea were in the room, Thea leaning on the bar while Roy sat on a stool in front of the counter. The two of them perked up from their private conversation upon hearing Sin, both of their brows raised at the Omega’s appearance.

“Club doesn’t open for half an hour,” Roy stated matter-of-factly.

Swiftly, Thea ran from behind the bar to throw her arms around Sin, pulling the Omega into a hug.

“Oh hey, I didn’t realise we were on a hugging basis,” Sin said jovially, her arms lying still by her sides.

As if to appease the Omega, Thea pulled back from hugging Sin but her hands were then grasping Sin by either shoulder.

“Roy told me what happened, well only after the fact, but I’m glad you’re safe,” Thea smiled though didn’t release Sin, her blue eyes still scanning over the Omega’s form.

Thea leaned back in towards Sin, giving the Omega a slight sniff at the neck. When Thea craned her head back from Sin, she cocked her head to one side.

“You smell different. I… didn’t even notice you when you came in,” Thea mentioned, perplexed.

Sin’s face immediately broke out into a grin.

“Aye, it’s this new Beta spray, the Arrow hooked me up,” Sin exclaimed, producing a small can of Beta scented-deodorant from her back pocket.

The Alpha female’s eyes went to the can. She opened her mouth, then shut it.

“Come sit, what happened?” Thea finally asked, grabbing Sin’s hand and pulling her towards the bar. Once Sin had plonked herself down on a stool, Thea returned to behind the counter.

Roy and Thea listened intently as Sin recapped to them what had occurred two nights ago when some assholes broke into her house and kidnapped her, and then what happened on the subsequent night when the Arrow busted her out of her kidnappers’ hideout. After Sin had finished giving the duo her abridged summary of events, she turned to Roy.

“Also, founder and leader of the Arrow fanclub, I think you’re wrong about him.”

“In what way?” Roy queried, quirking a brow at the Omega.

“Guarantee you he’s not an Alpha,” Sin said, an almost smirk-like grin on her face.

Thea remained quiet, merely watching as her friends began to converse about the Vigilante, the topic at hand of no interest to her. At Sin’s mention of the Arrow, Roy leaned forwards on the counter towards her, unsurprisingly to Thea.

“What, he didn’t actually tell you his dynamic or something, did he?” Roy questioned, curiosity burning behind his eyes.

The Omega shook her head before waving her can of Beta spray in front of Roy.

“No, but I’m telling you a Beta wouldn’t carry these and an Alpha—”

Sin didn’t even get to finish her sentence before Roy cut her off, the Beta sounding almost defensive.

“—Obviously, but he got those for you—”

“—Aye, I’m not finished Abercrombie,” Sin shot back.

Roy fell silent for a moment, the Beta then crossing his arms over his chest as if to say _‘alright, let’s hear this theory of yours that the Arrow’s not an Alpha or a Beta’._

“I’m telling you, Abercrombie,” Sin started, propping her hands up behind her head as she leant back against the bar, “You shoulda seen the way he talked to this little Mexican kid. Oh, and the Clarissa chick I was telling you about, I thought she mighta just been a junkie and been having like withdrawals or something. Turns out it was ‘cause of her diabetes, that’s why she was starting to look fucked. The Vigilante picked it right away though, scooped her into his arms and fixed her up. Mhm, I’m telling yah, while you may not know Omegas Abercrombie, I do. And the Vigilante went like full Omega. Total soft cock.”

After Sin had finished speaking, Roy just blinked at her. The fact that Sin was more romantically interested in Omegas than Betas or Alphas made Roy suspect that she was just being biased here. She was obviously looking for insignificant evidence to backup this idea that the Vigilante was a dynamic that he clearly wasn’t. Though, for what reason Roy didn’t know. Maybe Sin was just uncomfortable with the idea that an Alpha—the Arrow—had saved her.

It’s Thea who breaks the silence that’s fallen over the room, Roy having taken to stewing in his thoughts about how the Arrow was most definitely not an Omega—no Omega could be as cool as the Arrow was.

“Well, I for one, don’t care about the Vigilante’s dynamic,” Thea piped up, her gaze then sliding over to Roy.

“What I’m more concerned about is the fact that you still go around looking for him. He shot you Roy, you even still have a slight limp—”

“—Hey, hey, we’re cool. He even sort of apologised for that,” Roy insisted, holding his hands up as if to appease Thea.

The Alpha female merely rolled her eyes, leaning her head against her elbows on the bar. Thea grew quiet, not wanting to get into an argument with her idiot boyfriend about his unwarranted, and frankly dangerous, obsession with the Vigilante before they started work.

“While we’re on the subject, who’s the new guy?” Sin asked Roy.

“What new guy?” Roy responded, quirking a brow.

Sin waved a hand in front of her.

“Y’know, the guy in the black and orange with your idol, duh. Or at least, I think it’s a guy, might be a really butch lady though.”

Roy hemmed and hawed for a moment while Sin sat back on her stool looking almost smug with herself.

“I dunno, he didn’t exactly introduce himself. He’s probably just the Arrow’s teammate,” Roy shrugged.

“Well, where’s he been all this time then if you haven’t seen him before?” Sin posed the question.

“How the hell should I know? The Arrow brought him to yours because apparently he’s a better tracker than he is.”

Sin let out a hum, tapping a finger against her chin.

“That’s odd. Omegas are supposed to make the best trackers out of any dynamic.”

“Exactly,” Roy exclaimed, pointing a finger back at the Omega, having found a flaw in Sin’s prior theory, “That’s why the Arrow’s not an Omega.”

Before Sin could respond, Thea raised her voice over the Beta and Omega’s chatter.

“Okay! I’m officially exhausted just listening to you guys talk about the Vigilante,” Thea remarked before turning to Sin.

“Like I’m happy that Roy went to the Arrow because he thought you were kidnapped and that you’re safe now, but can you give it a rest, Roy? The club’s supposed to open in a few, so I need you to stop mancrushing on the Vigilante. Maybe that way you’ll actually get some work done,” Thea insisted in a tone that effectively ended the conversation.

Not a word about the Starling City Vigilante was said for the rest of the night. At least, not in Thea’s presence it wasn’t.

xxxxxxxx

It was after 8 o'clock when Oliver cleaned his plate of his dinner—a rib eye steak, not unlike what he was used to having his Alpha cook for him—and naturally Oliver’s right hand then slipped back under the table to find Slade’s left one waiting for him. He thinks he’s on drink number 3 now—scotch this time, but Dewar’s, familiar territory for Oliver—and Oliver’s going to attribute the former as to the reason why his head was propped up on Slade’s shoulder.

Diggle and Felicity most definitely had eyes and could see what Oliver was doing but nobody commented on the matter. Oliver was pretty sure he heard his friends chuckling at him though.

_Oh well,_ Oliver mused to himself, _what do I care?_

Slade had likely had just as many drinks as he had, yet Oliver was starting to think maybe the Mirakuru had impacted on Slade’s ability to get drunk, which was no fun. The Alpha’s tone of voice was still smooth, slightly gruff, but most definitely sober. Felicity was still sipping away at her first or second cocktail and Oliver knew Dig had only had a beer earlier in the evening as he was acting as their designated driver.

Lifting his head off Slade’s shoulder, Oliver locked eyes with his Alpha. A wry smile was visible on Slade’s face as he ever so slightly leaned in towards Oliver. Their noses were almost brushing, Oliver feeling like he wanted to slam his lips onto Slade’s own. Suddenly, a bright burst of light in his vision caused Oliver and Slade to simultaneously pull back from one another, both of their gazes immediately seeking out where the flash had come from.

Oliver’s eyes landed on Felicity, the Beta currently holding her phone out in front of her though she quickly pocketed it when her and Oliver’s gazes locked. The sight of Felicity having just taken a photo of him and Slade seemed to sober Oliver up somewhat. Felicity stifled a chuckle, Dig looking at her with raised brows as if he expected Oliver’s next reaction and knew how this scenario was going to end.

“Give it here,” Oliver commanded firmly, leaning across the table, his palm outstretched towards Felicity.

“You’re no fun,” Felicity pouted playfully, folding her arms over her chest.

Diggle and Oliver’s combined stares seemed to cause Felicity to yield however as after a moment the Beta handed her phone over to Oliver. Slade merely stared at the unfolding situation with a slight smirk.

When Oliver got hold of Felicity’s mobile, he slid himself away from Slade so that he was as close as possible to the wall adjacent the booth seat before looking at the device. His right hand also came up to shield the side of the phone, sure that Slade was craning his head towards Oliver as he wanted to see the photo. Oliver disagreed with allowing Slade to do the former as the image could be awful. In fact, Oliver had never seen what he and Slade looked like together. This image on Felicity’s phone was the first photo that had ever been taken of them.

The Omega swiftly navigated off of the home screen on Felicity’s mobile to photos to find the offending piece of data in question. Warmth blossomed behind Oliver’s cheeks as he brought up the photo.

In it, he and Slade both stared at one other, utterly enamoured with each other, their faces mere inches apart. Slade had one of his rare, genuine smiles on his face usually reserved for Oliver and in it, he was in turn wide-eyed, content by his Alpha’s side. Their intertwined hands weren’t visible in the image, still hidden away under the table, but both of his arms were visibly snaked around Slade’s right one.

The second after this photo was taken, he and Slade had both turned towards the camera’s flash, the moment between them lost. Silently, Oliver thanked Felicity for catching this rare moment of softness between him and Slade.

Realising he’s been quiet for a short while, Oliver forwarded the photo to himself before deleting it from Felicity’s phone. Then he slid the Beta’s phone back across the table to her.

“So, do you have any family back home, Slade?” Felicity asked whilst stashing her phone away on her person.

_Oh no,_ Oliver lamented to himself upon hearing the Beta’s words. The last and only time he’d asked about Slade’s family the Alpha had mentally shut down, retreating into himself like a tortoise into its shell. It had taken Oliver several moments of physically stimulating Slade for the Alpha to respond to him again. By the way Oliver could practically feel Slade bristle beside him, Oliver anticipated a similar turn of events could play out right now.

Curse Felicity for making simple, casual conversation with Slade to get to know him better.

Out of the corner of his eye, Oliver noticed Slade’s face tense up slightly, crow’s feet and laugh lines visible in the Alpha’s tight expression. Oliver’s palm snatches up Slade’s right one, the Omega not caring if anyone saw him do that. He threaded their fingers together, giving Slade’s hand a tight squeeze. Almost instantly after doing so, Oliver shot Felicity a disapproving look, shaking his head.

Felicity raised her brows at him but Oliver didn’t allow the Beta a chance to question his actions.

“Speaking of family… uhh, my mom wants to meet Slade,” Oliver blurts out in an attempt to change the topic at hand.

His gaze flicked from Felicity to Diggle, Oliver mentally hoping that his friends would allow the sudden conversation change. Thankfully, no one at the table disputed Oliver beginning to inform them of how his mum had found out that he was seeing Slade from the flowers the Alpha had been sending him.

Slade’s hand was a firm vice grip around Oliver’s as the Omega spoke. _It’s alright, you’re alright_ , _I’m here,_ Oliver mentally willed those words to Slade as he stroked his thumb over Slade’s knuckles. From his periphery he could see the anxiety ebbing from Slade’s face, the Alpha slowly returning to his usual self as he began to sip at his drink again.

Time passed and before Oliver knew it, Felicity had finished her icecream sundae (the rest of them having declined dessert), and it was probably about time for them to leave.

“So are we splitting the bill or—” Dig started, clearly having the same idea as Oliver.

“—I’ll get it,” Slade offered, cutting the other Alpha off. He abruptly stood up, untangling his hand from Oliver’s, and left the table before anyone could protest.

Oliver’s eyes followed Slade as his Alpha went to the counter to pay their check. A part of Oliver suspected Slade quickly getting up from their table was not just so he could do the former but also because the Alpha may have still been slightly uncomfortable from what had happened earlier.

When Oliver’s gaze slid back over to his friends, he found Felicity looking at him intently.

“ _So…_ is Slade going to be like you and insist on paying for everything when we go out?” Felicity asked, perplexed.

The Omega said nothing, not having an answer to the Beta’s question. Over the years, Slade had probably accumulated enough blood money—which Dig and Felicity did not need to know about—that the Alpha could likely splash a lot of his cash and still have plenty leftover to live out the rest of his life with.

“Okay and don’t think I don’t remember that you changed the conversation super fast when I asked Slade if he had any family back home,” Felicity exclaimed, seemingly disregarding getting a response from Oliver to the former question she’d posed.

“What is that like a taboo subject between you guys because I was just making conversation. Is this one of those ‘Slade and his parents don’t talk’ kinda things because I can totally get that. The last time I saw my dad was when I was seven, and he hasn’t spoken to me or my mom since, and… okay, I realise I’m rambling now and this is super off-topic but why are you making that face, Oliver…?” Felicity trailed off at the sombre, almost pained expression that had grown across Oliver’s features as she spoke.

Oliver opened his mouth, then shut it, realising he had indeed knitted his eyebrows together whilst deep in thought. He looks over to the counter in the restaurant and finds that Slade is no longer there. _Maybe he’s gone to the bathroom_ , Oliver speculated.

The Omega leans forward on the table towards Felicity, as if expecting Slade to catch what he was saying despite the Alpha being nowhere to be seen.

“We haven’t really talked about it much…” Oliver spoke, “But I think all of his family’s gone.”

“What?” Felicity gaped.

“I think it happened… a long time ago but let’s stop talking about this before he gets back. I’m pretty sure subjects like his parents make Slade uncomfortable that’s why I… looked at you the way I did when you brought it up,” Oliver explained.

Dig mumbled something under his breath but Oliver was thankful that neither he nor Felicity attempted to continue the conversation. All three of them had wiped the strained expressions off their faces by time Slade pottered back to their table.

As Slade returned, Felicity and Diggle both excused themselves to go to the bathroom. Oliver had been earlier so he remained seated whilst Slade slid back onto the booth seat beside him.

“ _Fuck_ , I felt a bit under the microscope with all the questions your friends were asking me,” Slade whispered to Oliver, though his tone had a hint of light-heartedness to it.

“You probably didn’t see it but I gave Felicity a hard glare for asking about your family,” Oliver responded as he slotted his hand into Slade’s open, outstretched palm.

Slade shook his head, a glint of something— _sadness?_ —behind his eyes when he looked at Oliver.

“Yeah, sorry kid. No family on my side for you to meet, so I guess we just gotta worry about your mum and sis.”

Oliver didn’t like the sombre tone their conversation had taken, the Omega nudging his head into the side of Slade’s in an attempt to rectify that.

“Your car’s back at Verdant. Wanna take me back to yours for the night?” Oliver posed the question, anticipating Slade’s likely response.

“With pleasure,” Slade growled lowly with a grin.

And so, Oliver spent his second night in a row sleeping at Slade’s place.

xxxxxxxx

Isabel drummed her fingers over the desk in her office. As had become commonplace since she’d become the co-CEO of Queen Consolidated, here she was still at work after eight picking up the slack from Oliver.

She was a patient Alpha—correction, _had_ been a patient Alpha, as it had recently come to her attention that her forbearance was getting her nowhere. Not when other players were clearly making their own moves across the board.

Steepling her hands in front of her face, Isabel ruminated over what she knew for sure. On January 28th at 6:52 PM the surveillance footage inside and located around Queen Consolidated's Applied Sciences Division was lost. CCTV of the building returned normally at 7:04 PM and there was nothing out of the ordinary down at the laboratory when security went down there to check on matters mere minutes afterwards. A full stock take of the building’s holdings was performed by laboratory staff the next day and they reported that nothing appeared to be missing.

Nothing except the vials of an indeterminate substance that had been kept in the cold room.

Although the Applied Sciences Division’s staff merely knew the former as an unknown biohazardous and mutagenic property to be handled with care, Isabel knew it as the samples of Slade Wilson’s blood that had been through the centrifuge.

Under normal circumstances, Isabel likely would have informed Mr. Wilson that his blood samples had been stolen, no doubt Mr. Queen having been responsible for their disappearance. But… Isabel held off conveying her prior knowledge to the other Alpha, for a variety of reasons.

For one, Mr. Wilson had never exactly been an easy person to converse with. He funnelled money into her and Mr. Blood’s pockets for them to do as they pleased with, so long as that included furthering the man’s own agendas, but Isabel seldom wanted to communicate with him. In any shape or form, be it texts, phone calls, or in-person as Wilson was... psychotic would possibly be putting it too lightly in Isabel’s books.

From the few times Isabel had been in Slade’s presence she would think it safe to say that the man was delusional—talking to himself, or rather, ranting and raving at things that didn’t _exist_. He was aggressive as evidenced by the fact that walls and furniture in Wilson’s office seemed to regularly have large holes in them, where Isabel imagined the man’s fists had been.

Being in Mr. Wilson’s presence felt like a death wish to Isabel. Wilson was a mere means to an end that Isabel would be happy to be done with as soon as possible.

Thankfully, Wilson was prone to falling silent and not asking anything of her for long periods of time. However, this had certainly been the longest period that had passed without him making any sort of contact with her. The last time Isabel had heard from him had been in early December. Less out of the ordinary, Mr. Blood and her also hadn’t spoken for a similar amount of time

And so, Isabel had remained silent—waiting and suspecting—upon learning that Wilson’s blood samples had gone missing.

Isabel glanced down at her ghost phone—courtesy of Mr. Wilson himself—at the evidence on the screen that confirmed her prior suspicions had been founded. She had two web browser tabs open on the device. One of them was of a clip from tonight’s news. In it, it was reported that yesterday the Starling City Vigilante had allegedly rescued several kidnapped Omegas from a basement. None of the innate details of Oliver Queen’s nightlife really interested Isabel, the video did however contain reports of the Vigilante having an accomplice. A masked figure in black and orange, if sources were to be believed.

However, it was the second tab on Isabel’s phone that really caused her to scoff. It was of a tabloid website, something she had no interest in but regularly kept a lookout for Mr. Queen’s name on. After all, having more dirt on Oliver that she could later use against him could only benefit her. The latest image of Mr. Queen on this tabloid website brought Isabel no such joy though.

Earlier this evening the photo had been posted and in it there was Mr. Queen leaning against some unknown man’s shoulder as they walked together. _Slade Wilson_ , Isabel huffed to herself.

Wilson may have been deranged but him and Oliver looking besotted with one another as they strolled through the city’s streets clearly wasn’t part of the Alpha’s initial plan. This image and the former news clip speaking of the Arrow apparently having an ally were no coincidence. Add in the disappearance of Wilson’s blood from Queen Consolidated’s Applied Sciences Division and Isabel was starting to think that Slade’s obsessional desire to wreak vengeance on Oliver had somehow been replaced by Wilson just obsessing over the Beta himself.

With that thought in mind, Isabel snatched up her ghost phone and dialled Sebastian.

“Any chance you’ve seen Mr. Wilson recently?” Isabel asked the moment the Beta male picked up.

Sebastian was more gauche and naive than she was, perhaps having not realised yet that any interaction with Slade Wilson had the potential to be dangerous.

“Oh, Miss Rochev… Ah, no. Not since December, a good two months ago,” Sebastian started, a hint of uncertainty in his voice that quickly vanished as his words became a disapproving hiss.

“Not since he got smitten with that _pet_ of his.”

Isabel leaned forward in her chair at the Beta’s words. Had something happened in December that might have explained Wilson’s sudden change of heart regarding Oliver?

“What pet of Mr. Wilson’s?” Isabel astutely posed her next question.

The Beta male sounds like he scoffs at that.

“The Vigilante!” Sebastian exclaims before rapidly starting to blurt out words.

“For someone who allegedly hates the Vigilante, Wilson seems to be awfully protective of him. Brother Cyrus caught the Vigilante out whilst he was in heat and once Wilson got his hands on him apparently he had ideas other than killing him. It’s none of my business what Wilson wants to do with an Omega but I would have at least thought Wilson would have removed the problem rather than continuing to let that pet of his run around.”

Blinking at the Beta’s words, Isabel had to check that she’d heard him properly. She’d heard him more than once but Isabel was still… surprised.

“I was not aware that the Vigilante was an Omega,” Isabel acknowledged, hoping to goad Sebastian into what he did next.

As expected, Sebastian began to run his mouth. He told Isabel of how the Vigilante had to be stopped otherwise he could foil Sebastian’s chances of being mayor (which just sounded like paranoia to Isabel, rather than anything Mr. Queen was likely to care to do. Who knew at this point though, depending on what Wilson had shared with Oliver, maybe Sebastian’s fears were founded.) Sebastian spoke of how the Vigilante had been trailing Brother Cyrus as the latter went about collecting the necessary components for reproducing Wilson’s blood on a larger scale.

Once the Vigilante had confronted Cyrus, Sebastian had expected the Alpha to have successfully killed the archer. The former turned out to not be the case as the Vigilante had appeared in Cyrus’s apartment the next night. Brother Cyrus had informed Sebastian that the Vigilante was an Omega—he was going into heat. Which was a detail Sebastian thought Slade might find very intriguing. But _no_ , Wilson had just barked at Sebastian, demanding he deliver the Vigilante to him.

From there, Sebastian wasn’t sure what actually happened as the archer had given Brother Cyrus the slip and upon learning of this knowledge, Slade had just said that he’d handle matters on his own. Fast forward a few days later to Saturday and Sebastian had went to see Slade, wanting to know if the Vigilante had been disposed of as there’d been no recent reports of the archer’s activity on the news.

Wilson had started to lose it once Sebastian had brought up the subject of the Omega, Slade insisting that the Vigilante had his worth and that Sebastian wasn’t to touch him. The Alpha also told Sebastian not to worry about reproducing any more of the serum from his blood samples or injecting anyone with the substance, and that was the last the Beta had seen or heard from Slade since.

As Sebastian spoke, Isabel remained silent, stewing in her thoughts. Oliver Queen was an Omega? _Oh_ , now that made sense. Mr. Queen must have been using something to conceal his natural scent though—beta spray, perhaps?—and clearly it was enough to fool even her nose. But, the thought of Mr. Queen’s true dynamic infuriated Isabel more than anything else (albeit she hardly intended on sharing _why_ with Blood).

Once Sebastian had finished his explanation, he let out a strained noise, breaking Isabel out of her thoughts.

“Brother Cyrus has failed to make contact…” the Beta added, a slight tremor to his voice.

Isabel scowled, clenching a fist so that her manicured nails dug into her palm. She propped her elbow up on her desk as she spoke, wishing the Beta male could see her glowering at him.

“Are you really that naive, Sebastian? He’s dead! Wilson offed him the moment he got too close to that Omega of his. I mean, just take a look,” Isabel fumed before forwarding the image from the tabloid website to Sebastian.

The Beta male fell silent for a moment then he let out an “Umm...”

“What’s Wilson doing looking all chummy with Oliver Queen?”

“ _Idiot_ ,” Isabel hissed at Sebastian, biting her teeth into her lower lip. Clearly, Sebastian was no more than a grunt with minimal free thought of his own. Perhaps that was why Slade had recruited the Beta into their fold in the first place. For Sebastian could be easily used as a puppet where she would not allow that.

_Slade did not need to puppet you, merely play you for a fool_ , Isabel’s thoughts hissed in her mind.

“Oliver Queen is the Arrow. Why do you think Wilson was simultaneously obsessed with both the Vigilante and the Queens?” Isabel explained with a sneer, “Though Wilson may have shared that piece of information with me, he didn’t on the other hand share that Mr. Queen was anything other than a Beta.”

Sebastian let out a hum.

“Do you think maybe he didn’t know that Queen was an Omega?”

“What does it matter anymore!” Isabel snapped, “The samples of Wilson’s blood are gone from Queen Consolidated and it looks like he’s joined Queen in his vigilante nightlife. Wilson is weak, psychotic, and would clearly rather get into bed with that whore of his than exact whatever revenge he’d initially planned for Queen.”

The Beta let out a sound of unease, perhaps a wince at the utter ire behind Isabel’s tone.

Isabel let out a huff. She could practically _feel_ the paranoia and fear rolling off of Sebastian just over the phone.

“I wouldn’t be worried if I were you,” Isabel spoke, allowing her eyes to slid shut in thought, “If either of us were going to be dead, Wilson would have already done the deed by now.”

“What makes you so sure?” Sebastian inquired with a sharp inhale, “You said it yourself that Wilson’s not exactly predictable, he’s stark raving mad.”

When Isabel opened her eyes, it was with grim determination burning behind them.

“Because Mr. Queen is not stupid and recognises that he cannot dispose of me without drawing unnecessary attention to himself. Why you’re still alive, who knows? But it is more likely out of the naivety of Queen’s heart than any mercy on Wilson’s part. And while Wilson certainly keeps Queen close like some prized pet, the fact that Queen also clearly has Wilson wrapped around his finger like a well trained dog is of greater gravity here. You’ll stay alive so long as Wilson doesn’t believe you to be a threat to his pet.”

At that, Sebastian grew quiet. No noise emanated throughout Queen Consolidated—most of the workers bar security having gone home for the night—and so Isabel was left to plot and plan in silence.

When Sebastian spoke next, his voice was eerily low as if he was expecting them to be overheard.

“May I suggest a subtle removal of Mr. Queen?” Sebastian posed the question.

Isabel crossed her legs, a hard frown still marring her features.

“No, you may not,” Isabel responded firmly, “Your paranoia that Queen will thwart your plans of becoming mayor and throw you in a cell prevents you from seeing why that would be a bad idea. You think even if you arranged to have Queen discreetly murdered that Wilson wouldn’t see through that. I will not allow you to get us both killed!”

Besides, Isabel knew that even if Queen were to drop dead tomorrow, that wouldn’t net her total control of Queen Consolidated. Mrs. Queen would still need to be disposed of as well to prevent her from simply taking back control of the company. However, a freak accident being the death of all the Queens had the potential to get messy.

_No_ , Isabel corrected her thought process, she needed to be smart about this. She needed to choose her movements carefully and not act upon thoughts that were likely to draw attention to her. To the outside world, it was all too obvious that she and Mr. Queen weren’t the friendliest of partners to one another. That evident animosity between them was what would make it difficult for either of them to dispose of the other.

“So, what do you suggest we do then?” Sebastian sighed before raising his voice into a shout, “Wait for Wilson to come and kill us! Even I know Wilson’s a freak and he wouldn’t be easy to get rid of. At least when we just had the Vigilante to contend with, I could arrange for enough lowlifes to try and kill him with some likely varying degrees of success.”

Isabel merely smirked at the urgency, the utter fear in the Beta’s voice. When she spoke, her voice held no such conviction.

“Allow me to destroy Mr. Queen myself.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment on your way out, I’d love to hear your thoughts.


End file.
